


Marigold Perfume

by Yotsubadancesintherain5



Series: A Mighty Ocean or a Gentle Kiss [3]
Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: 100 chapters, F/F, Not Rebellion Story Compliant, Short Chapters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-08-23 18:50:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 100
Words: 22,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16624487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yotsubadancesintherain5/pseuds/Yotsubadancesintherain5
Summary: It would take a hundred tries to find happiness.





	1. Mellow

**Author's Note:**

> I just want to build you up, build you up  
> ‘Till you’re good as new  
> And maybe one day I will get around  
> To fixing myself too  
> (I just want to love you  
> To love you  
> To love you well)
> 
> -Sleeping at Last, Two

Homura opened her door, the “I’m home,” lost to the silence.

She stumbled in, and trudged to nowhere in particular. She found herself in front of her information, and she watched the pictures filter through.

Homura sat down, her eyes looking listlessly, and something like a line of code going through her brain.

“Walpurgisnacht appears at the end of the month, save Madoka, Mami is the easiest to save first, then the other two…”

It ran over and over, and she wondered about the futility of it all. If it mattered, that this whole month would be left behind in the dust.

Too many months, too much time lost; if it would’ve been better to just wish Madoka alive in that first timeline.

It wouldn’t have worked, Homura told herself. She’d already seen. She was the one that had to put Kyousuke out of his misery.

But perhaps it would’ve worked for a magical girl, how Sayaka had been brought back from her Witch form. Or if it depended on the timeline, how close and far she got away from the original one.

She looked up, and there was a rare picture; of her and Madoka in an embrace, Homura’s hair pig-tailed and her face tomato red, Madoka frozen in a joyful laugh.

Mami bringing tea, and Sayaka turned around to help, Kyoko cackling at nothing in particular. It was a mellow memory, a salve for this home that didn’t feel like a home.

Homura craved that kind of life.


	2. Eternal

In those first few days, when there was a whole other door to goodness and justice, Homura asked, shakily, “What do you think?”

“Hmm? Think about what?”

Madoka looked away from the sky, a soft smile at the mere sight of Homura’s face. Homura thought then that Madoka had an unknown habit of making Homura nervous and yet relaxed at the same time. She shook her head, and adjusted her glasses.

“What do you think about these Witches?”

“Hmm.” Madoka tapped her finger against her chin. “Well. Poor things. They only know to feed off sadness. And they just seem like they’re suffering. Is it eternal, I wonder?”

“But they…”

“I know. I wouldn’t stop fighting them,” Madoka said. “But I wish they could live in peace, with us all.”


	3. Subtle

Once, when Homura was at home and cleaning out her time shield, she gripped onto something square and solid. It came to pass that there was a notebook hidden in the crevices of her time shield and when Homura pulled it out the pages fluttered about, all loose-leaf and grey with age.

She huffily gathered them up, and left them in a bunch before coming back to them and reading the contents.

There was a log of what had transpired and it became obvious that it was from a Homura long, long since passed. There were drawings of herself with glasses and pigtails, her drawing self holding hands with the other girls.

Though they were all written about, Madoka was given the most attention. Homura thought gloomily that this past version of her was horribly not subtle. She was also terribly idealistic, that she would receive this blessing simply because she was good.

There was a jabbing pain at the notion. But there was nothing to do to save this ideal. She had already been matured ( _hardened_ ) by this life.


	4. Meant no harm

The Grief Seed clattered to the concrete, and Homura expected it to burst open in the pressure of the tension. But it stayed as it was, and Homura deftly picked up the small piece of salvation.

“Give it back,” a voice said, hoarse with sobs, “Give it back.”

There was an iron grip around her wrist and Homura flinched under the glare.

“It belongs to Mami! Give it back!” Sayaka screamed.

Homura lifted up her head, saw Sayaka, saw Madoka kneeling down, tears streaming down her face.

 “There’s nothing to be done for her now,” Homura said.

“You should’ve helped her,” Sayaka’s anger and grief was growing, “She didn’t deserve to die because she treated you badly!”

“I meant no harm,” Homura said, her voice hardening at the sight of her classmate’s anger. “I wanted to save her, I did. She still hindered me from helping.”

“Then you should’ve done more,” Sayaka snarled. “You did something wrong, and now she’s _dead_ because of you!”

“Sayaka, please-“

“She made her choice!” Homura wrenched her arm free. “Take heed of your own.”

She whirled around and walked away before anymore could be said, not bothering to wipe away her own angry tears.


	5. Transparent

“And so I said,” Homura snarled over her meal, a piping hot hamburger with the works, “’It’s true. I don’t care what happens to you, Mami.’”

“Wow,” said another Homura, as she popped French fries into her mouth. “You’re so transparent, Sharp Homura.”

“What?!”

“Man, we all hide our insecurities behind a façade of ‘I’m totally keeping it together,’ but you really take the cake.”

“More fries?” Bar Homura asked diplomatically. The Homura nodded and her empty basket of French fries was replenished.

“Hey, Tamura,” the princess Homura called out to the end of the bar, “What do you think of this?! Is Sharp Homura being sharper than ever?!”

“Leave me out of this,” she said right back.

“Here,” Bar Homura said as she presented the hot soup to Tamura. She gulped some of it down, savoring the peppery taste.

“I said what I had to,” the Sharp Homura said as she bit into her hamburger. “They have to know where they stand.”

“Yeah, whatever. I’ve seen what you’ve posted on the Internet.”

The Sharp Homura pushed her hamburger down into the basket and left without another word. The normally noisy restaurant became quiet.

“You shouldn’t have brought that up,” the princess Homura chided. “Now she’ll be even more stand-offish.”

“Like she was so warm and loving before.”

“What a waste,” Bar Homura sadly regarded the discarded hamburger. “Maybe the puppy would like to eat it?”

“I’ll take it to the laboratory,” Tamura volunteered. She gulped down the rest of her soup, drew the back of her hand against her mouth, and grabbed the basket.

Out of sight of the other Homuras she took a moment to take out her phone. She scrolled through the gallery of barrier photos before coming to the photo she was hiding.

It was a few cycles ago, a semblance of hope for the first time in a while. It was Madoka and her standing in front of the lake, the sunset giving the water a reddish-orange color. Madoka was smiling widely, and Homura managing a smile, her hand in a sort of wave to whoever was looking at the photo.

Someday this would be the permanent reality for her; for all of the Homuras.


	6. Believable

“Why don’t you want me to talk to Kyubey?”

A thousand true responses flooded Homura’s head but none of them sounded believable. Something clicked in her brain and she had to conceal a smile.

“You know how I was in the hospital?” she asked. At Madoka’s nod, “Well, it turns out that half of humans are extremely allergic to Kyubey. I took his contract, he touched my soul and I collapsed into darkness. I don’t want that to happen to you.”

“Oh…” Madoka rubbed the back of her head. “That sounds… I’m sorry that happened to you!”

“It’s no problem. Please warn anybody else that comes into contact with him.”


	7. Addictive

The cookies her father made were, frankly, addictive. They were chocolate chip, the ratio of dough to chip a perfect combination. The dough was sweet and chewy, and the chocolate was in big, satisfactory chunks. Sprinkling a little bit of salt on top of the cookies brought out the flavor of the chocolate.

They were almost completely wiped out by the family but Madoka saved a dozen to put away. She thought, suddenly, that this would be a perfect present for the new transfer student, Homura. Homura probably didn’t get any sweets during her long stay in the hospital and if she did they were probably decidedly not solid things like jello or gelatin.

Madoka wasn’t sure of the difference. But she packed up the cookies in a box and wrapped it up with a cloth pattered with smiling sunflowers.


	8. Repeat

Imagine a future with her.

It’s replenishment, a dream just out of reach but tantalizingly, agonizing, close.

A world of infinite choices, whittled down to a month’s time. Not enough time to save her. Not enough to build up trust, to build up friendship with any others.

Discard them. They can survive on their own, they don’t need you, and they wouldn’t want your pity.

They perish under your eyes and it brings less anguish.

How horrid, you think, a human doesn’t think like that.

Though you haven’t been human for a very long time.

She perishes in front of you again and the needle is shoved deeper into your weak heart.

The infernal music of a circus, once joyful, burrows deep into your brain and festers.

You’ve got a lot to learn.

Repeat.

Repeat.

Repeat.

Repeat.

Repeat even when the words are bland.

Repeat even when the world crumbled at your fingertips again.

Repeat even when you doubt your existence.

Repeat even when your tears bring no salve to your pain.

This world refuses to write you an ending.


	9. Neon

The first thing that Homura saw was neon light. It surrounded her, and it made her squint. Even magic couldn’t fight against the harsh light.

She soon dubbed this particular world the decidedly uncreative, “Neon World,” and found that Madoka’s red ribbons were replaced by crimson ribbons that glowed in the dark. Sayaka has apparently taken the time to stick stickers all over herself so that when she stepped out into the neon light she glowed various shades of blue.

Mami didn’t appear this time; she apparently rolled her neck too hard and accidentally cracked it to the point she couldn’t move it back. She was in the same hospital Homura had stayed at but Homura couldn’t think up a good enough excuse to go visit.

When Kyoko showed up and cracked her knuckles before her fight with Sayaka her fingers glowed like a batch of glow sticks. Homura wondered how she’d cope in this world if she saved it.

Even the Witches were drenched in a blinding neon spectacle; when Walpurgisnacht showed up it was a visual cacophony of reds, blues, purples, all flashing over the city and the storm it brought. It wasn’t long before Homura was down in a wave of nausea.

Homura could barely make out a pair of crimson ribbons and a declarative wish before her time shield took her out of this timeline. She stayed down until the urge to vomit passed, and then she silently thanked the Neon Madoka for her apparent sacrifice.


	10. Broken

The Witch’s barrier lifted, and with it everyone else. Homura’s glasses were broken, smashed beyond repair, and she looked at the world in a blurry daze.

Mona stole everything. Homura found the Witch’s Grief Seed not far away and attempted to break it, the sharp point digging into her hands and making them bleed until she relented and used it on her Soul Gem.

She watched the darkness melt away, and realized then that it really happened. Sayaka had fallen to an onslaught of the Witch’s familiars and Mami had attempted to fend them off before her Soul Gem was shattered by a precise strike of the Stitched Maiden’s needle.

Madoka was next, the roots from the Witch striking and shattering her Soul Gem, and Kyoko got the near death blow; but she was overtaken by the Rooted Soldiers, clamoring to protect their Witch.

And Homura’s heart was strained to the stress and she’d been struggling for air and took one desperate shot at the Witch and clawed her way out of this Hell.

She shivered violently in the aftermath of this fight.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”


	11. Stop time

After they had taken care of two Witches on the other side of the city, Madoka and Homura met up to take a snack break. Homura let a secret slip out amid the chips and juice.

“You can stop time?!” Madoka asked excitedly, her legs kicking up from the ledge and knocking over her juice box.

Homura turned her time shield and grabbed the box, and placed it near Madoka. When time started again it seemed enough proof for Madoka.

“Only for a while.” Homura took notice of her frazzled braids and went to fix them.

“Oh, can you, um…” Homura’s mind filled with images of stealing answer papers for tests, grabbing a chocolate bar or swiping money from a stray purse.

“Can you buy one drink from a vending machine, then stop time and buy another drink while time is stopped?”

The earnest, excited grin made Homura’s thoughts of delinquency evaporate with shame.

“I haven’t tried that one yet…”


	12. Pauses

Of course the others would take note of the pauses of time, when it seemed like Homura appeared out of nowhere.

Of course a magician never revealed her secrets, and unless someone pieced it together she would disappear and reappear as she pleased.

Still, there was some small part of her that gleefully wondered if Madoka thought she looked cool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rewatching the series and knowing the twist makes some scenes with Homura unintentionally funny to me. One that pops out to me is when she attempts to diffuse the fight with Sayaka and Kyoko - the elegant jump, her hair all wavy, the water going up in artful droplets. She's totally showing off!


	13. Soul

It was a dream that stuck with her when she brushed her teeth and remained when she walked out the door to go to school.

It was a song that Madoka had never heard before, sung by someone she had never seen. She had been looking upward, water surrounding her, the sky golden and the sprinkle of rain falling on her face.

The girl’s face was clouded now, but brought melancholy in the dream. Her song was riddled with sobs, the kind that tore into one’s soul.

The lyric played over and over in her head: “I will miss you.”


	14. Alcohol

The restaurant was consumed by flashing lights and an overbearing musical score. Tamura eyed down her mug full of soda and drank it all in one go.

“No beer for you today?!” the pixel game obsessed Homura asked. “A good barf might help you out!”

“I might do it just fine without alcohol.” Tamura shut her eyes but the light seemed to pierce through her eyelids.

“It’s good to branch out,” Bar Homura said, somewhat shakily. The bar rumbled under the music and she had to catch the condiments that fell off the counter.

“Playing charades with your feelings again,” Techno Homura shouted into the microphone, “Welcome to the terrestrial bar!”

There was an eruption of cheers and Tamura thought that Bar Homura looked somewhat more frazzled than usual.

Techno Homura did a strange dance that required stomping hard on the floor and Tamura thought that if she did that she’d break her foot. She turned back around to stare sullenly into her empty mug.

There was a roar as Techno Homura reached into the crowd. Tamura first saw Bar Homura’s face twist and barely heard her cry, “Wait!” before there was a horrified scream.

Tamura whirled around in her seat and saw Techno Homura silent, holding the head and body of a stuffed toy. She looked like she broke out of a trance.

The music cut off not a second sooner and Plushy Homura ran out in a fit of tears, as if any other action would result in violence.

“Oh, God,” the pixel game obsessed Homura said.

Tamura took action then, jumping out of her seat, and striding to Techno Homura. She took the broken stuffed toy away from the frozen girl.

“You know this,” Tamura said, her voice dangerously low. “Her Madoka, her first Madoka, gave her this. You know what we have to do now, right?”


	15. Affront

Tamura practically dragged Techno Homura to the laboratory, the pieces of the stuffed toy in her other hand. She found a sewing kit hidden in the storage room and made Techno Homura sit down while she got out the supplies.

“You’re going to sew this back together.”

“Like I know how to do that.”

“Well, you’re going to have to learn.”

The torn up toy smiled upward. Tamura thought if only they should all be so lucky to take grievous injuries in stride.

Techno Homura at least knew how to get the thread through the needle but didn’t know the pine green would clash horribly with the white color of the plush.

“Wrong,” Tamura said.

“Why am I doing this? It’s not going to replace her Madoka.”

“You are the one that destroyed it, so you have to take responsibility. And I bet I can get the rest of the Homuras on my side, too.”

Techno Homura made a huffy clicking sound and stared down the broken plush.

Tamura really took in the plush now. It was a goat, wearing purple clothes and the eyes were sewn on instead of using beads. Tamura wondered if Plushy Homura’s Madoka knew that purple was the Homuras’ favorite color.

Techno Homura sized up the plush and lined up the head with the neck. Tamura went to hold them in place, as Techno Homura pushed the needle through the fabric.

The needle made small stitches and Tamura turned her head away so she wouldn’t breathe right in Techno Homura’s face. When it felt like there was no air inbetween the plush’s head and body Tamura looked back to see that the plush was sewed up good as new, with the stitches too tiny to make out.

“I thought you said you didn’t know how to do this.” She gave Techno Homura a look.

“Why did I have to do this anyway?”

“This isn’t a personal affront to you,” Tamura said. She took the plush out of Techno Homura’s hands in case it fell victim to her again. “You just needed to own up to your mistake.”

“Her Madoka isn’t coming back. None of ours are.”

“Tell me about _your_ Madoka,” Tamura said.

Techno Homura’s eyes drifted aside before she breathed out harshly. “My thing is, well, techno. I got along with Kyoko. I couldn’t stand Sayaka’s piano playing or Mami’s clarinet. Thought it was mushy crap. But Madoka’s violin, I could really understand all that mushy crap when she played. It was like nothing could go wrong.”

She shrugged. “Well, until it did.”

“It’s already hard for us,” Tamura said after a silence. “We can’t go making it harder.”

Techno Homura packed up the sewing kit in response. She took the plush and Tamura didn’t resist.

“I’ll give it back to her.”

-

Not long after Tamura saw Techno Homura and Plushy Homura talking up a storm, filling up the already noisy restaurant with laughter.


	16. Run

The run across Mami’s makeshift bridge brought up childhood memories alongside the panic, before her heart condition got worse and she was mixed up in all of this.

She looked for the right angle, a split-second, and tossed the bomb toward the Witch, and time started again.

She fell but ribbons grabbed her, almost maternally, and Homura caught her breath when she was on solid ground.

Somebody slammed against her and was yelling happily and she recognized it as Madoka’s voice, pulling back before hugging her again, and it played over and over in Homura’s head that they were alive.


	17. Experience

It was late after their Witch hunt and Mami had offered Homura to stay the night. Homura thought that it would pose no problem since she had time stopping powers but decided to take up on the offer.

Mami had finished getting a fresh pair of sheets on her bed and went to make calming tea for the both of them. She carried it out on a tray, with a plate full of cookies.

“Just for tonight,” Mami said as she brought the tray down. “I have a friend here.”

Homura reached for one and bit into it; it had macadamia nuts.

Mami poured the tea into cups, and picked hers up before blowing air on it to slightly cool the tea.

“Homura,” she said, “Are you like me?”

“We are both magical girls.”

“Not that. I’ve seen the way you fight.” Mami drank some of the tea. “You pushed me out of the way of the Witch’s familiars.”

“That’s just what friends do.”

“Well, that’s how I used to be. I usually fight solo but,” Mami looked downward, “Before Kyoko decided to fight for another city… I always put myself in front of her. Of course I would but there was always that wriggling feeling… ‘I can do good now.’”

“You kept this town free of Witches on your own as well as you could.”

“I mean, like I’m making up for something. Like I couldn’t do enough before.”

Homura already knew this story, but she offered up her own in a sort of gratitude.

“I know. I lost the one I love.”

“Oh.” Mami kept her gaze downward.

“She had so much more experience than me, back then, but it was all too much in the end. And I couldn’t do anything.”

“I’m sorry. For that, that, and… it’s too heavy a conversation for a friends’ night together,” Mami said. “I… I lost…”

“Don’t worry. You don’t have to share if you don’t want to.”

Mami took in a breath, a linchpin for if she would tell her story, but then let out the breath without a word.


	18. Fatality

Stupid Oriko. Stupid, stupid, stupid Oriko.

Homura shook her head violently, the hospital a blur. She could hear the heart monitor beep wildly and before long nurses were swarming her room to stop whatever was causing her heart to race.

Homura forced herself to calm, and when the necessary procedures were carried out to make sure her vitals were stable she was left alone.

She closed her fists together until her knuckles were white. Oriko.  Even with the fatality of her teacher and fellow classmates it seemed like everything would be okay, but Oriko had to get the last laugh.

She wished for Oriko to suffer the same loss, the cold anger coursing through her veins. Let Oriko see the one she loved killed, just to be spiteful. Let her be devoid of love. Let her squalor in anguish. Homura could deliver this vengeance.

She breathed out, released her hands. Someone like that wasn’t worth the effort to even look upon.

Let her never meet Kirika. She didn’t deserve that hope, not after she ripped away Homura’s right in front of her.

Homura shook her head. Madoka wouldn’t want that, even for her murderer. She would want to give Oriko hope.

Then may Oriko never cross paths with them again.


	19. Helping hand

The next morning Homura woke up to the smell of fresh pancakes and found herself in Mami’s room; she remembered that Mami asked if she would stay the night. She hoped the couch was soft enough for Mami to get a good night’s sleep.

She got up and walked to the kitchen, seeing Mami there tending to the pancakes.

“Go on and have a seat,” Mami said without turning around. She started putting bacon in the pan, and Homura went to sit down.

Before long there was a stack of pancakes and a plate of bacon for her to eat. Mami smiled before going back to work for her own breakfast.

“Don’t wait for me,” Mami said.

Homura drizzled syrup on the pancakes and cut into one. It was fluffy and sweet even without the syrup.

“About last night,” Mami said, “I’m sorry. I was just… eager to see if there was someone like me.”

“No worries.” Homura thought it lucky that in this timeline it was just her and Mami with horrible, wriggling sadness under their belts.

“But, it’s good to remember the… good times.” Mami brought her own breakfast over and began to eat.

“I don’t know. It just makes me long for the good times; the one I lost.”

Mami looked contemplative at her pancakes.

“Well, if you ever need a helping hand I won’t leave you.”


	20. Breeze

The grass fresh on the hill, and the lake stilled. Homura looking up at the sky, her hands under her head, watching the scarce clouds breeze on by, not quite formed enough to be anything.

Madoka beside her, sleeping. Homura would say whatever came to mind.

A rare, peaceful day.


	21. Get up

 It was weights tied down to every limb, dragging her deep into an abyss no one else could see.

It wasn’t ever going to be enough. There was no ending here. All of her luck fell out of her with that wish. The distance between them was growing.

Get up, she would think in these moments. It’s not over yet.


	22. Villain

Homura ruminated on this world’s Kyubey as he struggled in the trap she laid out for him. He had a proper set of emotions but really that would up his arsenal to get Madoka, or anyone, to contract.

“So you know what I’m feeling,” she said as she lifted up the bear trap. Or, rather, Kyubey-sized trap. “Why don’t you leave this planet alone?”

“You need us, just as we need you,” Kyubey said. “I know what you want. I’ve heard whispers.”

“You need to stop listening on people’s conversations, then.”

“You want to save Madoka,” Kyubey continued, a sneer creeping into his voice. “Don’t you get it? You’ve dedicated your life to stopping this girl from achieving her dreams.”

Homura drew up the bear trap close enough so that she could spit into Kyubey’s face if she wanted to; his mouth turned up into a too long grin, darkly chuckling.

“You know what you are, now, don’t you, Homura? Keeping her from her dreams. You’re the villain.”

“Nah. That’s still you.”

Homura drew her arm back, amid Kyubey’s sudden pleas, and threw him far into the lake. His new body would appear soon but for now this brought catharsis.


	23. Worst day

The bunny ensemble Homura finished her regale about her worst timeline, where meteorites fell down upon the Earth endlessly, and how it even took out Walpurgisnacht. It was at first a joy to see the Witch crushed underneath the giant rock but not when they crushed the city.

“I’ve got one,” the zombie killer Homura said. “Ran out of ammo. Madoka got bit after everything, and we’d run into some raiders earlier in the day that used us all in a hostage situation. Worst day of my life.”

“Worst day of your life _so far_ ,” the prankster Homura crooned, propping her arms on the bar counter.

“Man, shut up!” the RPG enthusiast Homura shouted from across the restaurant.

A pie was thrown at her face and then the gloves came off; prankster Homura evaded RPG enthusiast Homura’s punches, while the bunny ensemble Homura tried to stop them. The zombie killer Homura got prankster Homura square in the forehead with a salt shaker.

Tamura stayed on the corner stool. It wasn’t worth joining the fight, or drudging up painful, old memories.


	24. Bewitching

There was a soft pop as Kyoko opened the sleeve of Pringles, and she tore open the wrapper to get at the salty chips.

“Take some,” she said to Sayaka, holding out the chips between her thumb and index finger. Sayaka took them, but not without blowing air on them.

“Not like I got Witch germs on me or something,” Kyoko muttered, before holding out the can to Madoka and Homura.

“I’m okay,” Madoka said, though her eyes flickered down to the can and her hand pulled back. “Dad’s gonna have dinner waiting for me.”

Homura took one. She chewed on it as she and Madoka walked to the center of the abandoned warehouse.

“Do you think that Witch had anything to do with this place being abandoned?” Madoka asked.

Homura looked around, at the broken crates and overturned machinery. “Maybe. The Witch didn’t move or get its familiars out very far…”

“Not as many humans. That’s good. Where do Witches even come from?”

“Darkness in the hearts of the ordinary people,” Homura said as smoothly as melted butter. “Hatred, resentment. That sort of thing.”

“I hope I don’t cause any of those…”

“You’re safe,” Homura said. “Nobody could hate someone with charm like yours.”

“You… you sure?”

“Yes. You’re pretty bewitching.”

Madoka’s cheeks darkened and she almost said something but Sayaka cried out in disgust.

Homura turned around to see Kyoko holding a stack of Pringles, as tall as her thumb and index finger could handle, and shove it directly into her mouth.

Sayaka looked over at the two girls with an expression of a hopeless, defeated _why_ and Homura called out, “What if Mami saw you eating like that?”

Kyoko’s words were muffled and bits of chips flew out of her mouth.

“Ewwww.” Sayaka backed away.

“Kyoko,” Madoka said feebly.

Kyoko chewed and chewed, and then finally swallowed the huge stack of Pringles mush. She opened and closed her mouth.

“I think the roof of my mouth is bleeding. Salt, sharp chips. Sayaka, can you check?”

“No.”

“Oh, no wait… it’s fine, we’re good.”

Homura suppressed a groan.


	25. Jubilant

The new girl had to stop participating in PE this day. Her heart couldn’t handle even the basics of exercise, and the heat didn’t provide any help either.

Madoka glared at the girls gossiping about the new girl. Just a few moments earlier they had been jubilant in getting to know the new girl, and were tossing her away like a dull toy. It wasn’t right for them to pick apart her story like a pack of vultures.

She went to grab a fresh water bottle and strode over to the tree where the new girl was resting. This new girl, Homura, Madoka remembered, looked up at the approaching footsteps.

“Here,” Madoka said, holding out the water bottle.

Homura hesitated, before Madoka lightly shook it as if to show there was nothing amiss, and she took the water bottle.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

Madoka nodded, before looking over at the group of girls again.

“Don’t listen to them,” she said. “You’re fine the way you are.”

Homura drew her knees closer, and hid her face in-between them. There was a call for the next exercise and Madoka couldn’t do much else but wave and run back to her position.


	26. Collided

The revelation that other versions of her existed was a mystery to Tamura. They all had their origins, they all had their weird timelines and they were all her but not her.

She wondered what would happen if all their worlds combined into a mass of Witches, people, landscapes and technology, some that meshed well and others that didn’t.

There would be hundreds and hundreds of Madokas. That was a big plus but everything else was objectively chaotic and horrifying.


	27. Languid

This Witch was unlike any that Madoka had ever seen. It moved about, languid, and its minions were mere wisps of musical notes, floating upward into nothingness.

And the Witch itself was so small and moved unsteadily, its head too big for its body. The runes spelled out “Ariel,” and it came to rest itself on Homura’s shoe.

Homura looked at Madoka, confusion etched on her face, and Madoka realized then that this was a trifle of a barrier. It barely enclosed a closet sized area, and it was devoid of any extra traps.

No, Madoka heard whispers. This Witch wasn’t good enough even in this form, and wasn’t worth anything at all. Madoka uneasily looked for the source of the whispers.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard the gunshot, and her heart was still racing when she looked at Homura again. Homura held the Witch in her arms, a parody of comfort.

Still, she regarded the Witch sadly.

“This was a mercy, more than ever.”


	28. Obsessive

At this point, now, Homura dreamed of leaving all of this behind. A selfish impulse that was tantalizing, bound down only by the monstrosity that appeared over and over and over again.

She was surely old enough to drive, had practiced on cars that choked on their old, rusty equipment and on roads that were empty even during the day. She had the means to get a good car, one that true adults washed thoroughly at the smallest speck, obsessive with preserving its beauty.

Of course it would need practicality. Get in the car and drive and drive until she was far away from everything.

She imagined Madoka in this dream, at peace that the town would be safe and no one would die. Dropping everything to go on this drive with no destination, with only their intricate threads of memories.

But there were no such memories with this Madoka or the next or the next. The strings were cut and the slate cleaned, with only Homura left to prove that they were true.

This dream died like the others.


	29. Recoil

In the days that followed that timeline Homura substituted her guns for different long range weapons. Archery made her arms sore and her shoulders pop, but it got the bare minimum work done. A missile hit hard but was a liability for allies, and bombs were the most dangerous for everyone.

Even as she distanced herself away she could feel the recoil of the gun in her hand, how her fingers hurt so bad as she struggled with the trigger.

In time she returned to them, discarding her own hurt.


	30. Vehemently

Pocketed in-between school and Witch hunting Homura went to the closest source she could think of that would regard this information with a cool disinterest.

“Kyoko,” she said when they were sharing lunch together, “What does it mean when a girl makes you smile with everything she does?”

Kyoko was still biting into her hamburger. She chewed, slowly, her eyes widening and then settling into a relaxed position alongside an impish grin. There was a small stain of ketchup on the corner of her mouth and she bit into the hamburger once more, to prepare her arsenal.

Homura was already regretting this.

“You got caught up into something,” Kyoko said, waving her hamburger around like a judge with a gavel. “You’re in love.”

“I am not,” Homura vehemently protested, but it was already too late because her face was becoming hot.

“Look at that red face, you have fallen _so_ hard.” Kyoko started cackling.

“I have _not_!”

Kyoko leaned back, and started eating her hamburger again.

“Aren’t you going to ask who it is?” Homura asked, despite every warning to let it rest.

“I don’t need to.”

Homura stopped herself there, knowing there was no point in defending herself anymore.


	31. On my mind

On the walk after school, Madoka, Sayaka and Hitomi stopped to buy some crepes. Madoka stared down the confection of sweet dough, strawberries and heavy cream, reflecting on that intense stare.

“You know who has been on my mind?” she asked. “That transfer student.”

Immediately Sayaka made an especially drawn out “Ooh,” raising up her arms and her crepe dripping whipped cream and sprinkles on the pavement.

“So, what, do you like her?” Hitomi asked diplomatically.

“No! Well, maybe, maybe, but we just met!”

“That’s how it brews that fairy tale fantasy,” Sayaka crooned, “A mysterious stranger that saves you from a boring life right here…”

Hitomi nodded before biting into her crepe. She stifled her gag.

“This is chocolate cooking powder,” she managed.

“Let’s talk about that, how could they do that,” Madoka tried.

“No, no, I wanna talk more about Madoka’s blooming crush, before any of us got them!”

“Right.” Hitomi averted her eyes.

Madoka kept her attention on her crepe, until the conversation moved onto something else.


	32. Choke

Homura rushed to find the barrier, and the TVs began their hypnotic ways; Homura stopped time and made quick work of the Witch with the quick succession of bullets through the screens. The Witch broke easily into pieces.

But the threat of the chlorine gas remained, and Homura could hear the haggard coughs amid her own. Her throat burned, her eyes burned, and her skin itched and burned. She choked on the poisoned air and it was a relief when her time shield was ready for use again.

She pulled the afflicted out of the building, and time started again. Someone started to call ambulances, and Homura’s heart began to slow at a normal pace. She’d saved Madoka.

There was a feeling of horror, at the death that Homura had escaped. She didn’t know her corpse-like body could still choke.


	33. Kneel

When it was pouring rain and Madoka had nowhere else to go to push her clutter thoughts into something coherent she found herself at the abandoned church. Its once proud, noble exterior was weathered and the stained glass was shattered.

She stumbled into the inside and the pews were rotted, the wood soaked through with mildew, not fit to kneel on. Any valuable had been pilfered long ago, and Madoka settled onto the steps that led up to the altar. She looked upward, seeing the holes in the roof, and a pang went through her heart.

“I don’t know why I keep coming back here,” Kyoko said, appearing just behind her. Madoka’s hand went over her heart.

“Like I expect it to be different, or everything’s been fixed.” Kyoko scornfully threw an apple’s bare core to the ground.

Madoka nodded. She looked out at the ruined interior and pushed away thoughts of a happier, younger Kyoko. Growing up in this church, drinking in her father’s words about goodwill and kindness.

She pushed away the thoughts that Kyoko didn’t put much stock into those words anymore.

“You should get out of this town,” Kyoko said, carelessly light again. “You and Homura are the only ones to understand this now. Go off and be happy together.”

Madoka shivered. The rain falling from the holes in the roof dripped on her head.

“But people will die. And I need to protect them.”

“Stubborn.” Kyoko strode off to the entrance. She pushed aside the rotted door and paused.

“I’ll see you on the battlefield.”


	34. Locked

You’ve arrive in the new world.  
It’s cold.

You get out of bed. You check the table to your right.

*It’s a vase full of flowers.  
*They’re starting to decay.

There’s a clicking sound and a doctor appears. He says you’re free to go.  
The screen goes black.

-

You go to school. You skip the formalities.

Sayaka is missing. She’s been gone before you arrived in this world.

Still, you approach Madoka.

Madoka: O-oh, hello. You are Homura?

->*Please take me to the nurse’s office.  
* How are you doing?  
*Sorry to bother you.

She takes you to the nurse’s office. She’s not much for conversation this time.

You go through the motions of the school day.

It’s time.

But the door is locked. A large missile or bomb could hurt you dearly. You stop time.

Your menu is too cluttered. You find a small enough bomb and place it on the door.

*GRETCHEN appeared!

Madoka looks gravely injured. You can’t stop time now, and Gretchen takes the killing blow.

*MADOKA has died!

You pull hard on your time shield.

ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO RESET?  
->*Yes  
*No

-

In the next world Homura cursed whatever made that timeline so short.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there was ever a "Homura Simulator" Madoka would be the escort NPC that you can't equip better armor or weapons to, walks faster than your walk and slower than your sprint, and would aggro every enemy in the area and die in like three hits.


	35. Punch

“Tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me,” the prankster Homura demanded. Tamura picked up a large serving of teriyaki and shoved it into the prankster Homura’s mouth.

“Let me eat in peace.”

The demands only escalated, muffled by the sauced beef, and Tamura made a face at the prankster Homura opening and closing her mouth with the chewed up meat in her mouth.

“If I tell you will you go away?”

“Mmmphhh.” The teriyaki fell out of her mouth and landed on the floor.

Tamura made a noise of disgust. “All right. So, I decided to become stronger. Literally. So I trained and trained until I could take out any Witch with one punch! But then a prickly Madoka made me redo this whole three ring circus again!”

Her voice had gotten increasingly louder and by the end every Homura was staring at her.

“But you know,” Tamura said, her apparent peace at letting this out, “It was rather interesting to see that new part of Madoka.”

“Ha ha, like it’s totally eating you up on the inside-“

Tamura got one good regular punch on the prankster Homura’s stomach. In retaliation all of her seats had whoopee cushions for two weeks.


	36. Older

“It was as good as always, Bar Homura!” the phone obsessed Homura called as she left.

Bar Homura waved good-bye, and got back to work. Another Homura, the old fashioned Homura, made her way to the bar counter.

“Your finest wine, my good lady.”

“We, um… we have beer.”

“Your finest beer, then.”

Regular beer was poured out into a mug and Bar Homura fretfully wondered if she should invest in more high-quality alcohol.

“Look at her face, it totally tensed up,” the manga illustrator Homura said.

“You are finished with the lastest manga, right? No Soul Gem darkness?”

“I’m totally fine, my assistants took care of the tone and inking,” the manga illustrator Homura said breezily.

“Good. Good,” Bar Homura said.

“My good lady,” the old fashioned Homura inquired, “Do you ever envision yourself going back to aide Madoka?”

“I do have my hands tied up here.”

“But if all of this was done away, would you brace yourself against the viciousness of the Witches? Terrible lot, those ones.”

“Well, if I couldn’t be here anymore, then I would,” Bar Homura said. “But I am older than you all now. I mean, I look older too. Maybe staying here let me age naturally. I would help Madoka, but I think it would be different from you all.”

“It would no longer be a tale of a dashing knight and hopeful princess,” the old fashioned Homura said, “It would be more akin to a mother saving her child.”

“Something like that.”

“You’re kinda like our mom!” the manga illustrator Homura shouted. “You have a lot of kids! How will you pay for our college tuitions?!”

“I could sell my shield…”


	37. Vital

Rule number one:

Always remember your promise to Madoka, even if it slipped in the crevice of memory. There were so many terrible things but forget them and always remember this one.

Rule number two:

Be diplomatic, even if it makes you cold. Everyone, even Madoka, needs to know how this magical girl business bit and slowly tore you down.

Rule number three:

The appearance of Walpurgisnacht is signified by a downpour of rain. It is vital to prepare.

Rule number four:

Find new ways to dispose of Kyubey.

Rule number five:

When the road is paved with sharpness and despair, hold onto your last hope. Hold onto your promise.


	38. Urban

“You want to live out of the city someday?”

“Yeah,” Madoka said. She looked over the city; the school’s rooftop fence clattered when she threaded her fingers through the chain link. “Maybe start up a farm! Only seeing the urban life on holidays…”

“You know that people who work on farms get up at four a.m.? And not by choice.”

“I know, I know.” Madoka laughed. “You’re pretty invested in my future, Homura. I wouldn’t mind if you…”

“If I what?” Homura asked.

“Never mind. I’ll tell you later.”


	39. Tight

The world was cold and she breathed in short breaths, the oxygen restricted and her heart a tight muscle; she was dying, the world was ending, nothing was right, nothing was right, she was going to die here, and no one would remember her or care that-

“Homura, here, _breathe_ -“


	40. Health

When Homura could breathe again, and more importantly realize she wasn’t dying, she was taken to a very nice apartment, where very nice scents lived and there was what seemed to be an endless supply of treats presented to her.

“Don’t worry,” somebody new said, Homura didn’t catch her name, “You just panicked at the sight of the Witch. It’s perfectly normal, I almost fainted when I first saw a Witch.”

“You should have heard the noise I made when I first saw a Witch,” Madoka said. “Mami, what did you say it sounded like?”

“Like a goat mixed with a cow, and at the end you gurgled, very loudly,” Mami said. “A very normal sound to make at your first Witch.”

“So you… fight those things? Like a magical girl show?”

“Exactly like a magical girl show! Mami showed me how to hunt for them. I’m glad we found you in time!”

“You are getting better, Madoka,” Mami said. “In time we will be able to fight Walpurgisnacht.”

“Oh, Homura! You should make a wish too! Then you can become a magical girl and help us out.”

Madoka thought about what she said and continued, “Oh, sorry. Fighting Witches might not be good for your health…”

“I… I’ll think of a wish!” Homura said.

She had actually already thought one up, but figured that “ _I want to know you better_ ,” was just as accessible as actually talking to Madoka.


	41. Zeal

“And then my Madoka was overtaken by pies,” the prankster Homura concluded. “They were melon pies, if you can believe it. So I always take on my pranks with zeal to honor her!”

“That’s… strangely sweet,” the techno Homura said. There was a chorus of other Homuras that agreed.

“She’s lying,” Tamura called from the bar counter. “Her Madoka is still alive! I think it’s a weird enough timeline that nobody messes with it!”

“Aww, Tamura, you’re such a rotten spoilsport!”

“Wait, a timeline where Madoka hasn’t died? Maybe we should all go there-“

“No way, you’ll… I’ll, too, we will all get grey hair!” Tamura called over the commotion.


	42. Salivate

“So, this one has emotions, too?” Homura asked the Kyubey that was currently pinned to the wall. His long, bunny-like ears were pinned by two sewing needles and Homura wondered if this one actually had any weight.

“What’s going on?” Madoka called out to the dark room.

The gears in Homura’s brain spun quickly and she tapped her foot.

“I’ve captured this strange thing,” Homura called back. “A weird alien.”

“Don’t listen to her, Madoka-“

“See? How does he know your name?” Homura asked as Madoka stepped closer into the darkness.

“How… does he know my name?”

“Like I said. He is weird,” Homura said. “Now, watch this, to see just how nasty he is.”

Homura began listing off gourmet food, creamy cheesecake with soft graham cracker and sweetened strawberries accompanied by a dollop of whipped cream, beef teriyaki cooked to perfection, the beef tender and teriyaki sauce drizzled upon it, and even a perfectly brewed tea, with heated milk and sugar to create a sweet, warm taste.

Kyubey began to salivate, his saliva a mucous, grey color that made a stinking puddle on the floor. He looked up in a mixture of horror and embarrassment but it was too late.

Madoka made a noise of disgust and stepped back.

“See, now it’s bad to get near this alien,” Homura said. “Just leave it to me, okay?”

Madoka nodded and stepped out of the room.

“Well,” Kyubey said, “Then do what you do.”

“Nah. You cause less trouble for me if you’re captured.”

This timeline Kyubey was left in a box, with an array of bricks pinned to the top.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since Kyubey is deceptively cute, I wonder if that's his species' true form...


	43. Memorial

It was something that the pastry chef Homura thought up, and something that required another room to be constructed at Akemi-Ya.

It was a large room that Homuras could visit before they left on their mission again, a room with no windows, with only a small light bulb hanging in the middle.

 There were millions of small marks on the walls; they were even on the door and were starting to reach the floor.

A notch for every lost Madoka. They could not bury her so this was her memorial.


	44. Pretend

“I got a bad mark on a test again,” Madoka said as they walked home together. She unlocked her bag and pulled out the paper. It was folded over and over until it was too thick to be folded further. She opened it up to show that the crumpled paper was decorated with red marks.

Homura pushed her glasses further up her nose to read the questions Madoka got wrong.

“I could help you study…”

“No, no. It’s because of Witch hunting. Even with Mami, it…” Madoka shook her head. “Don’t let it pressure you. It’s my burden. I’ll just pretend I studied the wrong chapter when I show my parents.”

Homura wondered how long she’d pretend everything was fine.


	45. Dawn

It was dark in her room when she woke up, but when she pulled back the curtains near her bed it revealed the beginnings of the dawn.

She watched the sun crawl upward, until her room was filled with adequate light and she rubbed at her teary eyes.

It was okay. Somewhere else they were watching the sun rise together.


	46. Justice

The air was freezing cold, seasons changing, and finally the month passed on, something so mundane but it was so alien to Homura.

There was justice, or what could constitute as justice in this world, overrun with crawling, pained Wraiths.

It was lonely sometimes.

But she would be okay alone.


	47. Blush

When the day was through and Madoka was getting ready for bed she thought about what happened earlier in the day; Sayaka was a prime master for teasing and Hitomi was no ally, staying out of the situation.

Madoka shook her head. Maybe they wanted her to face this.

But of course they just met. It would be weird to come up and say, “Hey, there, you’re super cool and-“ then Madoka would have to close up her mouth and it would look awkward.

Already the thought of the transfer student was making her blush. She was just too cool, and who knew someone could be that pretty?

Madoka thought then she should make a habit of pinching her cheeks.


	48. With you

Walpurgisnacht was on the horizon, her familiars beginning their lurching shamble through the city. The circus music blared out loudly.

Homura breathed out; everyone was here.

“It’s time,” Madoka said. “But, there’s one thing…”

“What is it?”

“When this is over, and I find a farm that’s perfect for me, I want to run it with you.”

With that, Madoka rushed through the crowd of familiars and Homura’s resolve deepened.


	49. Snore

The restaurant was at a lull, the lights turned down slightly and even Tamura was nearly falling asleep at her table, a snore creeping out through her nose. Bar Homura came by with another serving of soup, setting down four bowls, and settling down at the table.

“I can bring out some bedding for you all,” Bar Homura said before she began eating.

“That would be nice.” The zombie killer Homura began eating. “Back in my original timeline we never had food like this.”

“Question about the zombies,” the manga illustrator Homura said, “So zombies die. And they don’t get buried. That’d totally poison all your water sources right?”

“Maybe that’s why we all got infected,” the zombie killer Homura said. “You know, I’m surprised that there weren’t as many zombie animals as there were…”

“And wouldn’t you go deaf from shooting them all the time, with nothing for your ears’ protection?”

“We’re magical girls. Same for all the Homuras. I don’t know about regular humans.”

“Oh, maybe that’s why noisy zombies get people in movies and shows!” Bar Homura volunteered.

“Is this really good for a dinner conversation?” Tamura asked.

“Okay, okay, fine.” The zombie killer Homura tapped her chin. “You know, some of the others have been talking about an untouched timeline…”

“An untouched timeflow?” The manga illustrator Homura leaned in closer.

“Yeah. No one can go in it and no Homura has come out. I’ve seen faint glimpses of it. The Homura there wears a blue cloak and wields a staff instead of a time shield. The others have started to call her Sage Homura.”

“Weird,” the manga illustrator Homura said.

“Is there no Kyubey there?” Bar Homura asked.

“Doesn’t seem like it,” the zombie killed Homura said. “Madoka is alive there. RPG enthusiast Homura said that there are monsters with human faces crawling around, but… that doesn’t sound too bad.”

“A world without Kyubey, Witches, and Madoka is alive,” Tamura said. “That sounds like a dream…”


	50. Remained

Homura found her in the rubble of the skyscraper that fell, just before Walpurgisnacht was taken down by an army’s worth of heavy weaponry. She was in the water, her face serene but the debris crushed her legs and the water was filmy and red. Homura carefully pulled Madoka into her arms, looking for any life that remained.

“Madoka.” Homura’s voice was dry and hurt so bad. “Not again. Not again…”

Madoka opened her eyes, the light in them nearly gone, but she managed a smile.

“You did it.”

“I did, Madoka, but it’s… it’s so horrible…”

“Homura, you told me back then,” Madoka said, her voice barely above a whisper, “You don’t have to do this anymore.”

Her arms rose up, shaky and strained, until her hands were splayed like she was giving a proclamation.

“I release you. I release you.”

It was too much and her arms fell against her chest. Homura began shivering, a wail building in her throat but she bit it back and tried to sing to send Madoka off.

“I’ll miss you.” She tried to breathe, and her tears fell on Madoka’s face. “Just as the sky is blue…”

The makeshift song burned away into nothingness when Madoka’s head slumped and her eyes closed. 


	51. Done

Homura placed her hands on her face and sobbed. Through her blurry vision, she thought to brush away the tears that rested on Madoka’s face, and Homura lifted her head up to the cloudy sky so that her tears wouldn’t land on Madoka’s face again.

She’d been released from that promise. Some other version of Madoka that took pity on her and said that it was done.

But there was nothing left here. The city was wiped out, everything that Madoka loved and wanted to protect was shattered and lost.

There was no future here.

Homura carefully let Madoka rest in the water, her hands resting on her chest.

Homura stepped backed, rubbed at her eyes, and turned back time.


	52. Preparation

The kitchen was steamy with food preparation and Bar Homura looked over her fleet of chefs. She nodded with each one she passed, until she found her own station.

“Oh, no… Do we have any beef meat left?!”

There was a chorus of questions and ended with a resounding, “No!”

“What are we gonna do?” one of the chefs asked.

“The beef stroganoff won’t be completed…”

The entire kitchen staff began to panic, which drew the attention of some of the customers.

“What, is there a Madoka running around in there?” the I.T. Homura joked.

“Everyone!” Bar Homura shouted over the commotion. When it was silent she sighed deeply.

“I’m sorry to say that it seems we won’t be able to have the beef stroganoff this time.”

“T-that’s okay! We can just have vegetables!” The phone obsessed Homura’s face fell as she looked back at her phone.

Bar Homura surveyed the other faces of the Homuras and her hand went to her mouth.

“I’m back,” Tamura called as she opened the door. “I brought beef, you wouldn’t _believe_ the timeline I just went through-“

“Tamura, you’re a lifesaver!” Bar Homura shouted, and she hugged Tamura tightly.

The meal went on with everyone cheering on Tamura whenever drinks were served.


	53. Disaster

“Tamura, hooray for Tamura!” the RPG enthusiast Homura cheered. She drank down her glass full of soda before coughing.

“So, Tamura, what was so bad about the last time flow?” the tea brewer Homura asked.

Tamura sighed and drank what was left of her beer in one gulp. She leaned over her empty mug, tapping her fingers against the rim.

“Well,” Tamura said, “For one, from the moment I got there I knew it was going to be a disaster. Everything beeped and the environments were pitch black! Every person or object was a weird, pasty color. Like a regular blue got run over by a truck.”

“Weird,” the RPG enthusiast Homura said. “But it gets worse, right?”

“It gets worse! Whenever I would meet someone in this time flow, they’d make this horrible, loud beeping sound! And whenever a Witch showed up it would flash colors so fast I saw spots.”

Bar Homura refreshed the drink and Tamura drank it down in one gulp again.

“Do I want to know about Walpurgisnacht?” the tea brewer Homura asked.

“Walpurgisnacht nearly killed me with just its appearance! I thought that the flashing colors were going to liquefy my brain…”

Tamura shook her head. “That’s one Homura I don’t want to meet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hereby dub this fanon timeline the Vinesauce timeline.


	54. Tide

It was much longer than intended to stay this time, but Bar Homura had enough beef stroganoff for seconds and thirds. Fourths were only for the desserts this time around.

Tamura leaned back from her giant meal, and wondered if this would keep her full for the entire month. There were other Homuras leaning back lazily as well, but Bar Homura was as diligent as ever.

Tamura nodded, and though her content body protested the effort, she got out of her chair and went back to face another time flow.

Good food, good friends, even if they were other versions of her, brought good, happy, peaceful moments; maybe the tide of her luck would wash over to the positive shore.


	55. Marigold

Madoka fell down into an abyss that should’ve frightened her but felt like this was the natural order of things. The wind coldly flew at her back and up above was a pinprick of light that quickly extinguished into nothing.

In the darkness it didn’t matter if she closed her eyes or kept them open, until she landed softly. There was light, like the world was a stage, and Madoka sat up to see that she had landed in a plentiful bed of fragrant flowers. There were many colors that she could not place but one strain of them continued out of the patch.

Madoka followed the flowers, and quietly went over their names – marigold, daffodil, sunflower – before she found a meadows’ worth of this unnamed flower.

Madoka looked out to see a girl standing in the flowers, and she felt like she already knew this girl’s name, but it felt polite to offer hers up instead.

“Hello,” she said, her words falling slowly out of her mouth like molasses, “My name is-“

-

Madoka awoke and shook her head. The dream stuck in her memories like flower petals to clothing.


	56. Indirect

There had to a way to build up Madoka’s trust in a quicker manner. Homura considered investing in a voice recorder to expose Kyubey’s elaborate lies when she shook her head and thought the space rat wouldn’t let his secrets loose that easily. Or even in a casual setting.

Then there had to be an indirect way to expose his lies. She could leave notes that detailed his scams, but then realized how illogical it would be for an alien with no opposable thumbs to write legibly or even operate a computer.

“Back to the drawing board then.” Homura sighed.


	57. Haze

It was brought to her. In the haze of hysterics brought about by Sayaka, about wishes that went horridly wrong, Homura was brought to a room where it was being held captive, whatever it was.

There was only a dim light, but the smell got to her first, one of rot and decay. Through her watery eyes she could see a human shape, lying on the floor, the likes of which were stained by something Homura couldn’t decipher.

She blinked and her hands flew to her mouth. Though it was rotted, she could faintly make out the features of Kyousuke’s face; he was clothed in a burial suit, and looked just the same as any human placed in the ground.

There was a low sound, like the wheeze from a corpse, and oh, God, oh, _God_ , he was alive, at least on the blur between life and death.

Homura’s back pressed against the door, but the reanimated corpse did nothing; perhaps the accident that caused his death incapacitated him.

Homura realized her mission then, and she placed a hand inside her shield, shakily digging through it until she found what she needed.

She stared at the gun, a sudden rage coursing through her veins. The image of Madoka’s hands outstretched, her Soul Gem in her hands, flashed through Homura’s head, and she wanted to tear open the door and shove the gun into Sayaka’s hands and snarl, “You did this, you take care of it.”

She swallowed her anger, her hand falling into the right position of the gun. She willed herself to step to the thing that was once Kyousuke, and held out the weapon at a fatal range. The reanimated corpse seemed to still, and Homura tried to think of last words to dignify this creature.

“She’ll always wish for your wellbeing,” Homura concluded. She pulled the trigger.


	58. Puzzle

Madoka stared up at her ceiling, Homura’s words replaying over and over in her head. How the girl had lost many friends in this life, and that she couldn’t stand the offer of allies.

It must have been painful to see something like Mami’s death, over and over again. It seemed preventable, at least in Mami’s capable hands, but life could change in an instant.

Madoka felt herself drawn to this puzzle of a girl. In a way, it was like she had stepped out of an anime, the stoic and cold that would slowly thaw into the paladin of justice. Or perhaps the one that would refuse the call, but come back for her dear friends.

But of course she was a person, so this grief went down for layers and layers. It felt like she was looking at a silhouette and knew that it once had color.

Madoka breathed out. She would find a way to help Homura.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This basically sums up what I thought Homura was going to be as a character when I first read the manga (I didn't watch the anime first). 
> 
> And then the twist happened and I was like, "Ohhhhh my Goooood, this changes everything!"


	59. Try again

The I.T. Homura giggled against her empty mug of beer, and Tamura watched as the other Homuras began setting something up; Tamura turned her chair back around, and contemplated whether she would take a strip of the complimentary beef jerky that was on the counter.

“Wanna know what I’m thinking, my dear Tamura?” I.T. Homura asked before dissolving into a fit of giggles.

“You’re thinking about getting more beer.”

“No, no, no,” I.T. Homura sang before she looked into her mug, as if she expected it to magically replenish itself. “Try again.”

“You’re thinking about… I don’t know, how annoying computer work can be?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe, Tamura,” I.T. Homura said as she slumped her head closer to Tamura. “All lines of code and codes of line and it all looks like Witches sometimes, ah, it’s terrible…”

“So that’s it then?”

“No,” I.T. Homura said, a snort accompanying her laugh, “You’re so bad at this. I was gonna say how there’s probably a Madoka out there that’s just like us!”

She shook her head, muttered, “Ooh, dizzy,” and Tamura had to catch her from falling off the chair. Tamura leaned I.T. Homura back onto the counter and called for Bar Homura.

Tamura thought of a Madoka just like them, braving all of this, carrying all of this, and completely alone. There was no one to guide her.

“That’s a horrible theory,” Tamura said to the I.T. Homura, who had already dozed off.


	60. Reap

Tamura helped the drunk I.T. Homura to a room to sleep off the stupor, and returned to find an act set up; the magician Homura stepped up to the stage, her sequin magical girl outfit glittering in the lights.

“It’s time for Reap What You Sow! Judge what your fellow Homuras will say when she rescues Madoka!”

There was a burst of cheers and Tamura began working on her own line, chewing on a beef jerky strip.

Techno Homura came up to the stage, and threw her hair over her shoulder before she smirked at the audience.

“No need to find the Goddess of Love, she’s right here,” Techno Homura said, her arms outstretched to the dummy that was dressed like Madoka.

The audience booed, and a block of packaged cheese landed at Techno Homura’s feet. She took the criticism in stride, still smirking with the added sticking out her tongue.

Tamura discarded her first idea for the show.


	61. Settle

“You try to save everyone?” Tamura asked. The “Reap What You Sew,” show was over by then, and other Homuras were setting up a skit. One of them was carrying buckets of rose petals.

“Yep,” the RPG enthusiast Homura replied. One of the rose petals fluttered out above the stage and she caught the petal.

“If I tried to do that every timeline I think my heart’s problems would flare up…”

“Well, I think of it like this,” the RPG enthusiast Homura said. She pulled out a portable game console from her shield and booted it up, showing the title screen to Tamura. “In this RPG, you can let your teammates die in battle. And they don’t come back!”

“Harsh rules,” Tamura replied.                                          

“But, if you are determined to save them all then you get the golden ending! And I can’t settle for less.”

“Is this all a game to you?”

The RPG Homura flinched back at the cold tone. “No. Of course not. But… it makes me feel better.”


	62. Treat

When the discussion of Sayaka’s crush came up, Homura revealed, while fiddling with one of her braids, that she had never received any chocolate on White Day. She was often in and out of hospitals even at a young age, and moved around frequently.

Madoka devised a plan to make something for her; a big, white chocolate cake that was topped with whipped cream swirls and strawberries. It was cut into the shape of a heart, the discarded pieces given to her parents and little brother to eat.

Hopefully the treat would make up for the multiple losses of chocolate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who don't know, in Japan and other Asian countries, White Day is like the counterpart to Valentine's Day. On Valentine's Day chocolate is given to boys and on White Day white chocolate and other similarly colored items are given to girls. 
> 
> I love milk chocolate above all so if White Day was an international thing I'd prefer to get marshmallows.


	63. Notice

There was that stare on her back again. There were multiple ones, because of being new and this mysterious air about her, but there was one that was especially intense. Homura wondered if she sought this one out of bias or if it really was as intense as she thought it was.

She thought to be discreet, at least more so than the one staring at her, and ever so slightly tilted her head to look behind her.

Madoka very quickly averted her gaze, the ceiling suddenly much more interesting.

Homura thought that the word “subtle” was lacking from Madoka’s plan then; as if Homura wouldn’t notice that quick about-face.


	64. Least

If Homura made a list of her mistakes from least to worst then it would stretch a mile longer than the average person’s life, all the regrets and errors and failures piling up into a burnable disgrace.

Madoka was set out adrift in the sea of possibilities all that seemed to end to the same road adding to another month’s worth of lament.

It began again and again and again.


	65. Exception

Music to her wasn’t good enough unless even on the lowest volume the speakers knocked things off a desk. The threat of ear loss meant nothing to a magical girl, so the techno blasted until it could be heard three cities over.

Or at least it could if the sound wasn’t trapped by a Witch’s barrier. It made short work of the Witch and when the last notes died out Homura found the Grief Seed that was needed.

“That was,” the rookie said, and Homura turned to see her hands over her ears.

“You don’t have to do that, you know.”

“I’m still not used to it…”

“Better get used to it, if you want to learn how to make that violin stronger.”

“Well, it was exciting,” she suddenly shouted, “My heart was pounding in rhythm to it!”

“Yeah, that’s what music does,” Homura said.

“B-but, don’t underestimate me,” Madoka said. “My violin might not be very strong, but…”

“I’ll listen,” Homura said, her tone unimpressed. “But I should warn you, all I have in my head are techno dreams.”

“Okay.”

Madoka placed her violin on her shoulder and breathed out. She began to play, the music a soft whine until it found its footing and began in earnest.

The sweet sound told a multitude of stories, at least the ones that constructed themselves in Homura’s head, threads of possibility that she tried to grasp onto that would fit this music perfectly.

It struck her suddenly, what this music felt like; climbing up grassy hills and tumbling down, back when she could come home with her knees covered in dirt and there was no fear of her overexerting her heart. Back when there was no possibility that Witches could exist outside of storybooks, and evil could be easily fought off with sticks and rocks.

The music stopped all too soon and Madoka’s expectant face fell into something more bracing.

“I don’t like music that doesn’t make my bones rattle,” Homura said. She nodded her head. “But I’ll make an exception.”


	66. Temperance

“Soda again,” the RPG enthusiast Homura said. “This Homura is going into sobriety, huh?”

Plushy Homura put down the can and touched the nose of her plush toy. She put her fist to her chin, deep in thought, before another Homura took the plunge to ask the question again.

“Why the sudden temperance?” the tea brewer Homura asked.

“Well, you see,” Plushy Homura said, her thoughts apparently all settled out, “I felt terrible finding Madoka again and smelling like booze.”

Tamura put down the beer mug she was previously holding outstretched for more alcohol. There was an influx of Homuras, too, that cut down on their beer after this statement.


	67. Elevator

It had taken careful planning but Homura got the girls out of the city. It had become overrun by Kyubey, and the source of his grasp on the city was within the tallest tower. The destruction of it would free the city.

Homura instructed the others to stay outside the city, no matter what would happen, and when she was on her way, she began to work on her disguise with her magic. Her sequin magical girl outfit was swapped for a dress, decorated with beads, and her hair was tied up into some complex thing on the back of her head. She put on a pair of glasses and her gait became clumsy.

She was able to enter the city with no incident, and kept her head low and her movements long but slow. She found the tower, and addressed the guard there. There were white tendrils on the back of his head.

“Please, please,” Homura said, her voice shaky, “I need to make a wish.”

The guard peered downward at her and Homura bowed her head, making a fearful noise.

“Go in,” the guard said and Homura was thankful that this was a human.

She stepped into the elevator and chose the highest floor; the music within put her already tense nerves on edge.

Finally, it opened, and she stepped into the room. The Kyubey there looked up, and Homura stepped closer, her left hand hidden, and she tightened her grip on her gun.

“I, I want…” her eyes flickered up, to the numerous security cameras. She could see guards fighting to bring Sayaka into a van, containing Mami and Kyoko; Madoka was on the ground.

In an instant she raised the weapon at Kyubey and pulled the trigger; she saw the bullet tear through Kyubey’s head and pulled hard on her shield to go back in time.


	68. Harm

“And then _, then_ , that Kyubey, he just-“ the magician Homura began shoveling teriyaki into her mouth, and Tamura nodded sympathetically.

“Sometimes it seems that he just gets the better of us, huh?”

“I had Madoka right out there! Safe from harm! Stupid Kyubey, stupid-“ the magician Homura winced, and she groaned as she began to lean over the counter.

“Are you okay?”

“Just heartburn, I’ll be fine…”

“I may have medicine for that, sit tight,” Bar Homura said. She headed upstairs, and Tamura patted the magician Homura’s back.

“Sooner or later, Kyubey will be pulled into the deepest fires of Hell,” the fortune teller Homura crooned.

“If you’re looking for the fires of Hell it’s right here,” the magician Homura said. She coughed and put her fist to her chest.


	69. Strive

A bell rung out, loudly, and the bell-tower Homura called out, “It’s time for ‘Our Deepest, Darkest Secrets!’”

A crowd of Homuras surrounded her and she started first.

“Sometimes I tie Kyubey to the clapper of a bell and go nuts ringing it!”

“I’m on my phone all the time because I can’t stand being alone with my memories of Madoka dying,” the phone obsessed Homura said.

It was quiet. Somebody coughed.

“I don’t like this game,” Plushy Homura said.

“Wait, I have one!” the RPG enthusiast Homura said. “I spoiled a popular RPG for Kyoko after she kept teasing me!”

“Is that really dark?”

“I strive to find new pranks,” the prankster Homura said.

“I had to put down Kyousuke, after Sayaka wished him back to life,” Tamura volunteered. “The wish, it… didn’t go as expected.”

“I got a cold feeling crawling up my spine just then,” the tea brewer Homura said. She made a noise of disgust.

“I once got so angry at Kyubey I strangled him,” the zombie killer Homura said.

“Well…”

“And then I used his remains to write out, ‘LIAR,’ on the walls.”

“That’s just gross, man.”

“I like it,” the phone obsessed Homura said, looking up before looking at her screen again.

“Well, I was once serenaded by my Madoka,” the techno Homura said.

“That’s so corny!”

Tamura watched the techno Homura’s face fall before it went up into a smirk and a sharp quip. A rush of melancholy rose up in her heart.


	70. Rule

“You liked Madoka’s violin playing,” Kyoko said. Her mouth curved upward, eager for more material to tease her with.

“I did,” Homura replied. She tested the speaker, and nodded when it was at a satisfactory volume. “It took a few seconds, but she did good.”

“You’re just getting soft,” Kyoko said.

“I am not! I just… made an exception to the rule.”

“I’m expecting her to serenade you now…” Kyoko’s smirk grew larger.

“Shut up and help me with this.”


	71. Fire

There hadn’t been much opportunity to find something, to love someone. And now it was presented in front of her, and the long thread was burning away, bit by bit.

But fire was in her name. She wouldn’t give up.


	72. Victory

It wasn’t anything concrete but it was something that Madoka could sense, something brimming underneath. There was too much sorrow for one girl, and she wondered how far the story went.

Homura wanted her on the sidelines.

Kyubey said that she had power within her, that no one else in history could match. It would be enough to save everyone.


	73. Divided

When the dead began walking, the city was scattered about and abandoned. It was unknown to all but the young girls, for they were told of the Witch’s familiars that latched upon humans and turned their skin to rot, and passed on this disease.

They shambled and ran and climbed, some flicker of sentience beneath the craggy moans, but completely under the control of the Witch.

For a moment there was peace, Madoka and Homura keeping watch for those creatures or, worse, raiders that would sink their teeth into any supplies, claimed or unclaimed.

“We can’t stay here forever,” Madoka said, as she looked about the abandoned house. “We should get going in the morning.”

“Kyoko isn’t going to like that.”

“I know. I know, I don’t want to go either, but…” Madoka sighed. “I know Tatsuya and mama and papa, they aren’t coming.”

“What’ll we do if she tries to stay?”

“I don’t know.”

Madoka looked at Homura’s twin braids and her face wrinkled in concern.

“It’s not safe to keep your hair long like that.”

Homura pulled on one of them; Mami’s hair was methodically cut until she was satisfied with the length and the style and Kyoko had cut off hers in one messy slice. Madoka’s hair wasn’t kept in pigtails anymore.

“I’ll put it up in a bun.”

Madoka didn’t look satisfied with the answer but didn’t push the issue.

“Meet me where the snowmelt flows,” she said.

“What does that mean?” Homura asked.

“Mama says… said that it meant, ‘I’ll see you again,’” Madoka said. “It was something that ran in my family.”

Homura couldn’t offer anything up that was like that. She considered herself lucky that there wasn’t anybody for her to mourn.

-

Kyoko was, thankfully, compliant in leaving the house. The girls snuck out of the city and found themselves in another.

This one was just as overrun, but there were people that went to meet them, and brought them somewhere safe.

It was safe for only a little while. The adults left them there, taking whatever supplies they could carry, and left them at the mercy of the raiders.

“Give us everything,” the raider boss demanded, as her people’s weapons were aimed at the girls. Homura forced her breathing under control; they hadn’t gotten Mami.

“These are kids, man,” someone protested, weakly, and his protest was met with a hard glare.

“Out here there are no kids. You’re either alive or one of those _things_ ,” the raider boss snarled. She pushed the barrel of her gun closer to Madoka’s head.

“Take me,” Homura tried to say, but her voice was tight with fear. It came out as a rasp.

Sayaka rushed forward, and Homura closed her eyes tightly. There was a noise like a firecracker, and then the smell of blood and screaming.

There were more gunshots, and then silence. Homura willed her eyes open, and saw Mami there.

Hope began to flow through Homura’s chest.

-

They’d been walking for what felt like days. Homura kept hearing the voice of Kyubey in her head, enticing and straying.

There was a wedge that divided them. Kyoko looked as though she would bolt at any moment. The other three were her only tethers, and Homura wondered how long it would last.

Sayaka got a burial. They’d marked her grave with flowers and a smooth rock in lieu of a gravestone.

They didn’t talk about it; there wasn’t anything to be said.

“You can make all this pain go away,” Kyubey whispered in her brain, but Homura shook it away. She had to keep this wish intact. It could save her life.

-

It was the work of Walpurgisnacht. They’d wondered if the Witch was even in Japan, and how far her reach was; their Soul Gems followed her path, the glass fading when she was too far and glowing when they were close.

It didn’t matter now. They were surrounded by those under the Witch’s control, in this cabin. The door was so far away. One of those creatures had grabbed Homura’s braid loose from its bun and pulled her; Mami took the bite instead as she wrestled Homura free, and pushed her forward.

Kyoko got Madoka free from one, and shoved both her and Homura into the outside. They ran, and Madoka was the one to look back.

“They aren’t…” she said, and she put her hands to her face and sobbed.

Homura didn’t reply. She took out her knife, and found the base of her braid. She cut it off.

“We need to keep moving,” Homura said.

Madoka shook her head. She opened her hand and revealed the bite to Homura.

“Oh. No, no, Madoka, no-“

“It was too fast,” Madoka said. “Kyoko saved me, but… I can’t be saved.”

She laughed, a broken sound.

“I still have my wish,” Homura said, “I can help you.”

“I tried. They got Tatsuya, and I tried. It didn’t work.” Madoka closed her hand. “Kyubey can’t raise the dead.”

“I can’t leave you,” Homura said. “To turn into one of those…”

“You don’t have to do this. I don’t want you to do it,” Madoka said. “We’ve all suffered enough. Let me rest here.”

Madoka settled against the trunk of a tree. Her skin was already beginning to rot.

Homura couldn’t say anything. She stepped back, almost stumbling.

“Meet me where the snowmelt flows,” she said, her voice rough with tears.

“I’ll see you there,” Madoka replied. There was a smile on her face, and it burned into Homura’s mind as she turned and ran.

-

She found Kyubey, waiting for her by a waterfall. His eyes bore into her, and he expectedly waiting for her words.

“I know my wish now, Kyubey.”


	74. Delivery

Tamura was making paper cranes alongside the other Homuras. There was a shortage of beer this time she visited, and everyone’s mugs were filled with soda or milk or water or some other refreshment of choice.

“Soda’s gonna rot your teeth,” the RPG enthusiast Homura said when she saw Tamura down her mug of soda.

“I don’t want a lecture from someone that won that drinking contest.”

“It wasn’t that much-“

“I believe it was thirty mugs of alcohol in a row,” the sophisticated Homura chimed in. “Quite impressive, but a difficulty for others around you.”

“I had a bad timeflow and my game got bricked,” the RPG enthusiast Homura protested.

“We all have those,” Tamura said, “And you should’ve known better than to trust prankster Homura with your consoles.”

“Yeah…” the RPG enthusiast Homura sullenly went back to her crane.

“Delivery!” the professor announced, and she carried in a package.

“That might be for me!” the Techno Homura called. The professor carried the box to her and watched her open it.

“Usually Bar Homura takes care of deliveries,” Tamura said. She shook her empty mug.

“I think the professor wants some more responsibility.”


	75. Killing

“Homura,” Madoka said, during lunch, “Are you having trouble with magical girl stuff?”

Homura chewed quietly on her orange slice, long after the sweet juice had been gnawed out by her teeth. She finally relented, swallowed the slice, and nodded.

“Well, I was cleaning my equipment a while ago,” Madoka said, “And, um, there was actually a code on my bow! And when I searched, there was an app just for magical girls.”

Madoka opened up her phone and showed it to Homura, the group chat named “Megical,” and Madoka laughed when she saw the name.

“I guess it got changed again,” Madoka said. “It’s silly, but it, it really helps, to be in contact with other magical girls.”

Homura chewed on another orange slice. She averted her eyes.

“Does it… really help?”

“It did. For me.”

Homura thought it over and nodded.

-

Madoka helped her get through the motions of getting an account, and suggested a funny username for the chat. Homura steadfastly insisted on her own name.

She wrote out her introduction when she got home.

“Homura:

Hello, everyone, one of my fellow magical girls directed me here.

Zomzomkiller:

Oh my god, oh my god, it’s the famous Homura!! happymarshmallow finally got her to join!”

There was a long, long line of names she wrote out, and it brought in a crowd of other users.

“justayellowbird:

It’s Homu-Homu, she’s here?! Selamat pagi!

Aspiringmanga:

yuuko she’s in mitakihara, it’s night.

MaiMai:

SELAMAT PAGI

Zomzomkiller:

MaiMai, your caps lock is on again!

happymarshmallow:

Hehehehe ^_^ everyone is excited to meet you, Homura!

PrettyinOrange:

Yeeeeeeaaaah, happymarshmallow talks about you ALL the TIME!

Bananafornana:

girl why is it just your name

justayellowbird:

Do you know how hard it is to pick out the perfect username?!

Bananafornana:

you went with the first idea

justayellowbird:

NO!!!

MaiMai:

SHE DID

justayellowbird:

MAI WHY?!

Vitaminemergency:

lol of course Homura Shows Up when the chat is super empty, this is Important History!”

The messages didn’t slow down and Homura finally typed:

“Homura:

What exactly is this?

Totallyahumangirl:

Hello, everyone, as you can see I am totally a normal girl capable of emotions, and I must know if there are others in your lives yearning for something.

Zomzomkiller:

Oh goddammit, Kyubey got in again! I thought we banned his IP address!

Bananafornana:

i’ll kick his ass

PrettyinOrange:

Hahahahahaha, Homura, we have a vermin problem!

Homura:

You all know about Kyubey?

Zomzomkiller:

Hard to keep info off the Internet.

justayellowbird:

Our Kyubey laughed real evilly, like an anime villain! I didn’t need the Internet, Homu-Homu.

Bananafornana:

lmao surprised you figured it out

Aspiringmanga:

She has her moments

Homura:

I’m still wondering, what is this place?

Zomzomkiller:

Just to exchange info about witches, and to meet other magical girls! I’m from America!

Bananafornana:

Miami lol

happymarshmallow:

Isn’t that in America?

MaiMai:

YES

Zomzomkiller:

C’mon, MaiMai, turn off your capslock already.

Vitaminemergency:

Turn on my Location, Guarantee you’ll get ???

PrettyinOrange:

Hahah, me too!

Homura:

Okay. I have to go now.

happymarshmallow:

See you tomorrow! ^_^”

Homura shut off her phone, before it lit up with more texts. She went to plug it in; something told her it would run out of battery at the rate the texts were going.

-

She woke up and found that there were only twenty-five more messages on her phone. It was mostly excitement that she was there and some disappointment that other users missed her.

It took a while to get used to but it was nice to hear that little buzz and know that someone took down a Witch or nailed a test. Sometimes there were pictures of Kyubeys the girls had gotten, giving Homura more creative ways to dispose of the Incubator. Other times there were scenic photos of where they lived, or a new dessert they’d tried.

Nobody showed a picture of their face; it was something that had to be absolutely perfect, at least that’s how Homura figured.

One night, when it was much past her bedtime, Homura opened up the app and found herself in the middle of a new topic; romance.

“Aspiringmanga:

Well I don’t know romance personally I just draw it

justayellowbird:

You need to get an art account, let our works go out to the world!!

Aspiringmanga:

No

Homura:

Take the chance.

PrettyinOrange:

Aspiringmanga, if you want some date ideas for your comic, I got a new one! My boyfriend took me out to get pizza and he kept getting flustered when he would look at me ^_^

bananafornana:

the cheese

PrettyinOrange:

Hahahaha, but I love him!

shiny-yay:

I got one too my girlfriend and I used our weapons to transform into brooms we flew around at night and it was really fun!! We got late night ice cream together!!

PrettyinOrange:

Hey, power couple!

shiny-yay:

Yay yay we fight Witches together, wish your boyfriend could see you in action ; - (

PrettyinOrange:

Haha, I’d have to say it was special effects!

Aspiringmanga:

Well that’s two

justayellowbird:

Homu-Homu, do you like anyone?!”

Homura looked over the question for what felt like hours. This was the world she was going to save, so she took the plunge to be honest.

“Homura:

I do.”

And then she quickly turned off her phone and shoved it under her pillow, her face warming the fabric.

She woke up to a thousand messages, about fifty percent of them typing out her name to get her back to the chat, thirty percent incomprehensible letters and twenty percent questions that were way too much for this early in the morning.

She scrolled downward quickly and found the most recent messages:

“PrettyinOrange:

Aspiringmanga, you should do Homura’s story as the main one and then shiny-yay’s as the B story! Can mine be a side story? ^_^

shiny-yay:

But mine might be too hard?? ; - ( Yours would be easier to draw!! And it’s super sweet!!

PrettyinOrange:

Yours is so exciting! Girlfriends fighting against monsters and then getting ice cream, it’s action, tension, and then catharsis! Aspiringmanga, you’ll make a killing off of this story!

Aspiringmanga:

All of this is too hard to draw.”

Homura would deal with it later. She got ready for school and headed out. When lunch rolled around Madoka inched up to her desk.

“I saw the messages,” Madoka said quietly, “So you… like someone?”

Homura nodded, hoping that it wasn’t weird that she was just staring at her lunch.

“But, this helps, right? After Mami and Sayaka… I can’t…”

“I’m okay.” Homura popped open her container of rice and managed a smile before eating it.

Madoka looked around before asking, “Should we send them a nice picture? Since Walpurgisnacht…”

“We’ll send it after the fight,” Homura said.

-

After school they went to a scenic part of the park, right when the sunset graced the reddish gold lake. Madoka’s smile was wide and reached her eyes and Homura’s was small but cute, her hand up in a sort of wave.

Madoka gave Homura her phone back and her smile got wider before asking if Homura’d like to come over for dinner.

-

That night, when Homura stepped out of the shower and put on her pajamas, she read out the messages while she dried her hair.

“Zomzomkiller:

No Homura yet? It’s been hoooours.

MaiMai:

HOMURA

Aspiringmanga:

You’re doing that on purpose now aren’t you.

justayellowbird:

Mai, Mio, we should go visit!

Aspiringmanga:

It’s twelve hours by train -_-

Homura:

Hello.

Zomzomkiller:

She’s here!

Homura:

I do like someone. But I will tell you all after Walpurgisnacht.

happymarshmallow:

And she’ll send our picture! ^_^

Homura:

How do I do smiling faces like that?

PrettyinOrange:

Walpurnisnacht?

Vitaminemergency:

That one Witch that is Above All in terms of Witches

Zomzomkiller:

I heard she ravaged a new place! But it was Antarctica.

PrettyinOrange:

Walpurgnach

Aspiringmanga:

That’s way too much for just two people, will you two be okay?

Homura:

I have time stopping powers, we will be okay.

PrettyinOrange:

WalpuG

bananafornana:

you’ll get it eventually lol

Vitaminemergency:

Hey take a picture of her Grief Seed, huh?

happymarshmallow:

Where will we store it? ^_^

bananafornana:

make it a national monument

Homura:

^_^  
I figured it out.”

Homura closed out the app and held her phone close to her heart.

Walpurgisnacht would appear in two days.

-

When it was time Homura looked out at the storming weather, the grey clouds and sleeting rain. She opened the app.

“Homura:

Thank you for everything. The person I like is Madoka.  
Here’s our picture.”

She sent it; she stared at the picture, and she managed a wobbly smile even as her tears blurred the happy moment.

There was a flux of messages and she turned off her phone and left it home.

-

In the new timeline there was no such app and Homura’s heart dropped into her stomach.


	76. Decay

A drinking contest had passed when Tamura returned, and she was tasked with getting some of the more hungover Homuras to a place to sleep it off.

“Sorry for this,” Bar Homura said, her palms pressed together and her head lowered.

“Don’t worry.”

Tamura pulled the zombie killer Homura off the floor and Tamura placed the girl’s arm around her shoulder. Tamura began to shuffle with the girl to the upper level.

Halfway through the hallway upstairs the zombie killer Homura began to stir.

“Do you know why I keep my hair short?” she asked. Her breath was so saturated with alcohol that it made Tamura gag.

“New beginnings,” Tamura managed.

“Wrong, wrong, wrong.” The zombie killer Homura’s head slumped and she said sullenly, “It’s too long to say.”

“All right.”

Tamura got her through the door and made her settle against the wall. Tamura began getting bedding ready.

“I hate this.”

“Don’t enter a contest like that again, then.”

“No. I hate all of this,” the zombie killer Homura said, her hand going through a circular motion. “I keep seeing Madokas that are so far in-between what I know, and Madokas that are so similar to my own and I don’t even know if I’ve ever known her at all.”

Tamura bit her lip. She punched the pillow a little harder than necessary.

“And I hate my timeline. I have to see it all over and over, and I want to know something other than the decay of flesh.”

“We could switch,” Tamura offered.

“No. It’s like you said, we can’t go making things harder for each other.”

There was a sniffling sound.

“It’s already hard enough as it is.”

Tamura smoothed down the bedding and breathed out. She walked to the zombie killer Homura.

“I’ll come back with water.”

“Can you… look after me?”

Tamura nodded. “I’ll have to get the other Homuras up here and help Bar Homura assign helpers. But I’ll be back.”

The zombie killer Homura smiled, a single rough chuckle falling from her mouth, and Tamura went to go help the other hungover Homuras.


	77. Lies

The sky’s rainfall ceased and Walpurgisnacht fell before her, a paltry Grief Seed in comparison to the Witch that created the seed.

She couldn’t use it. Her Soul Gem crumbled in her hands and she fell back, thinking that it should’ve hurt to hit the ground like that and wondered if the tales of heroes and heroines were full of lies.

No, it was okay. The town was safe now. Mami was gone but she’d meet her again. Homura could continue on with her life.

There was a final exhale.


	78. Stormy

It used to be that rain was met with happy splashes and colorful raincoats and umbrellas. Madoka would run to school, dancing in the stormy weather, and arrive completely soaked. It took until middle school that Madoka stopped dancing in the rain on the way to school.

Not that it stopped her on the way back. The coldness on her skin was comforting, and made the subsequent bath or shower feel that much better, like she was being wrapped in a warm, watery blanket.

Now, after her dreams of that girl, falling, falling, falling like raindrops, the rain brought unease.


	79. Terrible

Madoka’s home was always filled with some sort of noise during the day; the sizzle of a pan because her father was cooking. Her mother making calls and calling out cheers when she got especially happy-drunk. Tatsuya went about his day in babbles and noisy toys.

Sayaka’s home was always as Madoka remembered it, with sophisticated furniture and wide rooms. The quiet was unsettling at times.

Mami’s home was like a teenager’s dream; solitary, spacious and filled with whatever she liked. As cozy as her home was, there was a certain terrible sadness that fell upon the rooms.

When Madoka first entered Homura’s home, she wished to take this girl back with her, so that she could know that homes were meant to be filled with warmth and loved ones.


	80. Apple

Most of the talk with the zombie killer Homura had been nonsense; half-formed songs, the ways they would kill Kyubey and trying out skit ideas.

“Be quiet in there, please!” the bunny ensemble Homura called from another room.

“Sorry.” Tamura shrugged her shoulders.

“Guess some of them can’t take noise right now,” the zombie killer Homura said. “It’s… it’s good to be loud, sometimes, you know?”

“How many beers did you all drink?”

“Techno Homura got to ten. I think RPG Homura got to about eight. Prankster Homura kept pouring the beer into her mouth, one after another. It was nasty. I got to three,” the zombie killer Homura said. “We use that stuff as impromptu medicine so I couldn’t really shake off that’s what it’s used for.”

“Ah. Have you ever asked the professor to make you a cure?”

“Won’t work. Same as a Witch’s kiss.” The zombie killer Homura shook her head. “Except your skin sloughs off too.”

Tamura gagged.

“You know what I miss most about my Madoka?” the zombie killer Homura asked. “Before everything, she always had this apple scented lotion. She passed it out for us all and it was like… I finally got to know what it was like to belong.”

She leaned her head against the wall. “Not that I mind belonging here.”


	81. All I ask

All I ask is that this world stays safe.

All I ask is that you are happy and never have to wish for anything.

All I ask is that the pain will lessen until it is no more.

All I ask is that these past memories will just be dreams.

All I ask is for this to end in victory.


	82. Dust

The zombie killer Homura was feeling better, and gave Tamura a hug before venturing back into her own timeline.

Tamura went through each of the rooms, to see if there was any Homura that needed anything.

There were helpers in all but one room. The Homura in that room was seated in front of the wall, her legs crossed under her, and from what appeared to be her hands in her lap.

Tamura felt a chill pass down her spine before she stepped inside.

“Do you need anything?” she asked. She thought to tell a joke. “Ah, besides a nice world with Madoka in it, of course.”

This Homura said nothing a long time, and Tamura internally dubbed her the Silent Homura.

She was going to leave, when the Silent Homura rendered her name useless.

“Coated on my hands, the dust of these graves,” she said, “All across the land, I search for those marigolds in a cave.”

“But they do not appear in my hands, aching and thin,” she continued, “For my hands are laden with sin.”

Tamura thought up the name Poetry Homura.

“Aren’t we all,” she said, trying to get humor into her voice. “I mean, so many of us kill Kyubey, right? But, ah, is that really a sin I wonder…”

The Poetry Homura said nothing more, simply getting up and walking slowly out of the room and downstairs.

Tamura thought she caught some disappointment on the girl’s face. Maybe she could pick up a nice notebook for Poetry Homura the next time she came around.


	83. Nimble

If Madoka couldn’t help out in a magical girl way, she could go the route of pre-magical Sayaka and work on hitting familiars with a bat while the magical girls fought the big fish.

But to do so she would have to be fast; and fast enough for the high standards of Sayaka, Mami and Homura.

Especially Homura. She didn’t even like Madoka knowing where Witch’s barriers resided.

And so began Madoka’s quest in becoming more nimble, to avoid familiar attacks and hit them with everything she had.

The first home session Madoka slipped while doing an unstable handstand and ended up breaking her wrist.

At least the injury was a sort of motivation for the other girls, in a silly, “I will avenge your broken bone!” sort of way.


	84. Focus

Mami had died in front of her.

The fact raced in her head over and over, as Madoka was hurrying her home.

Madoka, as she helped Homura to the door, called out to her mother that there would be a guest for dinner, and for her father to please make that comforting meat-and-potato curry.

She took Homura to her room and let her sit on the bed. Homura sank down into the softness, but still couldn’t shed tears.

“I’m so sorry,” Madoka said, and it was foggy in the panic but Homura thought that she was suffering too, but her mouth was too dry to make any words.

“Here, focus on this,” Madoka said, and she slipped something into Homura’s arms. It was soft and solid and Homura hugged it tightly.

The tears began to fall, and when they ceased, she saw that Madoka’s face was streaked with tears as well.

“I’m sorry,” Homura said. “I should’ve become a magical girl long ago.”

“No, no. It’s not your fault,” Madoka said. “I missed.”

Homura hung her head; it hurt so bad.

“It’ll be okay,” and Homura wondered how much of it was for her reassurance of Madoka trying to tell herself that.

Homura didn’t dwell on it, and looked at the thing in her arms. It was a goat plush, dressed in purple robes, and had felt eyes instead of buttons ones.

“I thought she would help,” Madoka said. She ran a finger along one of the goat plush’s horns.

Homura held out the plush for Madoka to take; she shook her head.

“She’s good for comfort. You keep her.”

Homura kept down her protest and hugged the plush closer.


	85. Dramatic

It was quiet in Akemi-Ya today. It was only Bar Homura, Tamura and the bunny ensemble Homura today. They were either eating silently or, in Bar Homura’s case, looking over what was needed for food and drink. The silence gave Techno Homura enough wiggle room to start sounding out the notes of her song.

She hummed quietly, before coming across an increase in volume.

Techno Homura made a sound in her throat that was like a mixture of a soprano with a brisk wind.

“What was that?!” the bunny ensemble asked. She almost fell out of her chair and her skin was as pale as a sheet of paper.

“This place isn’t haunted,” Bar Homura said. There was a waver in her voice.

“That was me,” Techno Homura said. “It’s for my music.”

“Okay,” Tamura said. “What the _heck_ is that music, then?”

“Man, you’re super red,” Techno Homura said. “I must’ve scared you bad. Dramatic.”

“Is that the reason for that music?”

“It’s supposed to show the pure emotion of seeing Madoka fighting a Witch for the first time.”

“I was scared, but there wasn’t anything like that,” the bunny ensemble Homura piped up.

“I’m trying to make a compilation of everyone’s fears into this song,” Techno Homura said. “This one was from my first impression.”

“You’re going to be working for a very long time then,” Tamura muttered.


	86. Waste

Someone set up a dartboard on the wall, and it was Tamura’s turn to play. She balanced the weight of the dart, keeping one eye on the bulls-eye and kept adjusting her hand to the perfect arc.

“Just throw it already!” a Homura yelled.

Tamura threw it and the dart arched before solidly sticking into the wall.

“Man, you suck at this.”

“It’s my first time,” Tamura shot back. She huffily went to the back of the line and thought, irritably, that this whole thing was a waste of her time.

“Don’t start trashing the game because you’re trash at it,” the phone obsessed Homura said.

“I don’t see how you could be any better since you never take your eyes off that thing.”

“Apps,” the phone obsessed Homura said. She held up her phone. “Wanna see a picture of me and Madoka at a-“

A dart shot through the phone, the sharp end of it an ominous thing. When the phone obsessed Homura got her breath back she started yelling at the Homura that threw the dart.

“Sorry,” the Sharp Homura said flippantly. “Just go take it to the professor.”

Tamura thought daggers were going to fly out of the phone obsessed Homura’s eyes.

“She might make it better than before,” Tamura suggested.

The phone obsessed Homura held onto this suggestion before breathing out and leaving for the laboratory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to the bag of tropical flavor kompeito from my trip in Japan that satiated my sweet tooth via literal kernels of sugar.
> 
> Bag of tropical flavor kompeito  
> (August 2018-December 2018)  
> Literally tasted like sugar with fruit punch flavoring


	87. Passion

The darts game continued until someone got a dart stuck in their hand. The calligraphy Homura was hurried into the kitchen for first aid and the group of Homuras scattered for some other entertainment.

Tamura sat down at a table and wondered what to do next. She could watch a skit by the resident Mami or maybe pitch in at the kitchen.

When she was going over some plans, the phone obsessed Homura returned, her phone as good as new. She sat down right beside Tamura.

“I don’t like Sharp Homura,” the phone obsessed Homura said, “But that suggestion was a good one.”

“What’d the professor do to it?”

“Just fixed it. I don’t know the technical stuff,” the phone obsessed Homura said. “But she added a jetpack feature which is… well, it’s kinda cool.”

“And you got to see her laboratory,” Tamura said. “It’s weird how all of this circles back to Madoka…”

“The want to rescue her is our passion,” the phone obsessed Homura said. She was right back on scrolling through her phone.

“What do you do with it anyway?”

“Get updates on others, and read through funny things,” the phone obsessed Homura said. “But what I’m really looking for is this app that connects with other magical girls.”

“I know that one,” Tamura said.

“You do?! The professor said that it only occurs once every… um… some big number timeline.”

“I thought so,” Tamura said.

It was quiet before Tamura asked, “Is that in line with your original timeline?”

“No. Mine was where everyone was a baker,” the phone obsessed Homura said. “But I want to find that app again. It’s good… it’s good to know that we can count on others that aren’t, uh, ourselves.”


	88. Flying

“This is the worst game ever made,” the phone obsessed Homura sang. The music from her phone was taunting, and goaded her to buy heart replenishment.

“Don’t trash it because you’re bad at it,” Tamura said.

“Touché.” That didn’t stop the phone obsessed Homura from giving Tamura a dirty look.

“Hey, give me a sound that sounds like despair!” Techno Homura called from across the room.

“The sound of a river poisoned by a corpse,” the zombie killer Homura offered.

The bunny ensemble Homura shouted, “When you buy a cake and drop it and it splats on the ground!”

“When you lose a game for the fifth time in a row,” the phone obsessed Homura said.

“When you accidentally corrupt your game,” the RPG enthusiast Homura said. She kicked at the table leg when she remembered whatever caused that noise of despair.

“When you’re falling, and it should feel like flying but flying isn’t filled with fear and anguish,” Tamura said, “You want to stop her but there’s nothing you can do but scream, ‘No!’”

Akemi-ya got very silent at that suggestion.

“Okay, not that real, Tamura,” Techno Homura said.


	89. Dry

Madoka and her father left to pick something up from the grocery store and it left Homura alone with Madoka’s mother. It was because of impatience that Madoka’s mother brought out an alcohol of choice; she placed the bottle of sake on the table and began pouring it into a shot glass.

“Do you know much about alcohol?” she asked Homura.

Before Homura could answer, Madoka’s mother began speaking, “You are lucky to be able to appreciate it for the first time.”

She poured out some sake and pushed the shot glass to Homura. “Here, give it a try if you like.”

Homura picked it up and drank the sake; her face scrunched up.

“Hits you hard the first time,” Madoka’s mother said, a laugh in her voice. “It burned the first time I tried, like you right now.”

“No. It’s too dry,” Homura said without thinking.

She realized what she said and hid her face in her hands. She peeked through her fingers to see Madoka’s mother in a state of whether to scold or to laugh.

“I mean, um, my family is a long standing maker of… yes, so you see that’s…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Madoka’s mother said. “But at your age, stop it, all right?”

Homura could only nod. She thought after a while that it wasn’t too bad of a first impression with Madoka’s mother.


	90. Sword

“I wonder if there’s a Homura out there that uses a sword,” the tea brewer Homura mused.

“What, doesn’t that old fashioned Homura use one?”

“No, her weapon is this really, really old gun,” the tea brewer Homura said. “If it wasn’t magic it’d probably turn into rust.”

“We’re really the outliers, aren’t we?” the bunny ensemble Homura asked. “Kyoko has her spears, Sayaka and her sword, and Madoka has that flowery bow… we’re not very magical-girl like are we?”

“Can we really be the magical girl that Madoka admires so much if we aren’t magical girl-like?” the RPG enthusiast Homura chimed in.

“Maybe that’s the problem!” the tea brewer Homura said. “We need new weapons that are flashy and useful. Or maybe make it so that our guns are more magical girly…”

There was chatter about what to do, when somebody shouted over the growing noise.

All eyes on Tamura, she sighed before putting her hand to her forehead.

“Mami uses guns. Muskets. It’s perfectly magical girl-like.”

“Oh, I forgot about Mami!” the bunny ensemble Homura shouted. “But she did die early in my timeline.”

“Mine, too!”

“Mine died after like a day!”

“Mine died before I got there!”

The conversation shifted to how long each Homura’s Mami lasted.


	91. Shadows

This Witch was the most formidable that Madoka had seen in a long while. It only took a few seconds for this Witch to display her runes – SARA, with elegant swirls on the ends – and then they were dropped into a room in this barrier.

The screen above them flashed the directions at such a speed that was hard to comprehend, but Madoka was able to piece it together; play hide and seek, and the winner would make a move on the chessboard. When the game was won the way to the Witch would be opened.

“That makes no sense!” Sayaka protested, but through the shadows of where the chessboard was set up they could see colorful familiars clamoring futilely.

“Let’s just do it,” Madoka said. She began the game by counting, and ran through the barrier.

It went on and on, and neither of them had gotten close to the end of either game.

Madoka wanted to kick over the chessboard. But someone else entered the barrier.

“Homura,” Madoka called, relieved.

“I’m not too late,” she replied, and Sayaka went over to pull her to the chessboard.

“We can’t figure this out!”

Homura looked up at the screen and nodded.

“You two keep up the hide and seek game. I’m going to win this chess game.”

Madoka didn’t know how that would work but she didn’t protest.

She went to go hide and felt like time was jolted around. When Sayaka found her and they went back to the main room of the barrier the chess game was over and there was a giant hole in the wall. The familiars were mere piles of confetti now.

“That was always there,” Homura said lamely, “I didn’t do that.”

“I don’t care how you did it, thank you,” Sayaka said before running through the passage.

“Thank you,” Madoka repeated, and she held out her hand. Homura was cool so she ought to do something cool, too.

“Let’s get that Witch together!”


	92. Powerless

There was a new Homura here now, and Tamura was surprised she took this revelation of other hers as well as she did.

Tamura kept working out nicknames in her head, and ultimately decided on New Homura for now. The girl was generously given a large portion of food and drink.

Watching everyone give her new plates to chose from, ranging from entrees to main courses and side dishes and desserts, Tamura saw it as a young girl at a family reunion with her aunts making her try everything.

“Let her breathe first,” Tamura called over the chatter and the bustle of dishes. It wasn’t heard by anybody.

Luckily the mom figure stepped up to the plate and said, “So, what can you tell us about yourself?”

Everyone stopped to look at Bar Homura and then down at the New Homura. She looked at all the food, wide-eyed.

“Kyubey just gave me this power,” the New Homura said.

“Beware the space rat,” Poetry Homura crooned, “Soon you will wish for him to go splat.”

“He’ll come back so make it harder for him,” the zombie killer Homura replied.

“I got advice!” the RPG enthusiast Homura said. “You know when you play a game and keep screwing up on figuring out the boss’s move set? And you keep leveling up but you still feel powerless? Here’s a strategy, scan the area, stay close to your fellow magical girls and let them take out the familiars while you go for the Witch-“

“Are you having trouble with that game again?”

“No.” The RPG enthusiast Homura looked away.

“If Madoka gives you a present keep it safe in your shield,” Plushy Homura offered.

“Always set the best pranks to show how much you care!” the prankster Homura shouted.

 “That’s just for you, dude,” Techno Homura said.

“I have one,” Tamura said. She tried to get through the sea of Homuras but it was too difficult so she held out her arm in a dramatic flair.

“If you see a weird world with flashing lights just turn back time, it’s not worth the risk.”


	93. Guilt

Laughter rang out loudly over Akemi-ya, as the RPG enthusiast Homura began nudging Sharp Homura with her elbow.

“Get it, get it? Where is Madoka? Hair she is!” the RPG enthusiast Homura said, cackling as she lifted up a strand of her hair.

“It’s not funny.”

“It’s a little funny,” Tamura called from the other end of the bar. “You’ve had better jokes.”

“Tamura is right!” the RPG enthusiast Homura said. “Princess Homura told me a good one the other day, do you wanna hear it, Sharp Homura?”

“Enough.”

“Just one more-“

“I said _enough._ ”

Tamura would’ve taken action then but Sharp Homura drew in on herself, her head hidden in her arms and the mood of the area became cold. The RPG enthusiast Homura awkwardly lifted up a hand and touched Sharp Homura’s back.

“Hey, I’m sorry about the jokes…”

She only got quiet, muffled sobs in return and Tamura’s heart dropped into her stomach. She headed to the kitchen to fetch Bar Homura.

When she returned with Bar Homura, the RPG enthusiast Homura had coaxed Sharp Homura to lift up her head. There was a gaggle of Homuras around her with various items of comfort. Plushy Homura had slipped her goat plush into Sharp Homura’s arms.

“How can you all stand it?” Sharp Homura asked through her tears. “How do you live with the guilt knowing that you’ve failed everyone?”

“Writing my music,” Techno Homura said.

“Knowing Akemi-ya is always here,” the zombie killer Homura said.

Bar Homura brought out a mug of hot chocolate for Sharp Homura and pushed it to her.

“It must’ve been hard,” she said, “Especially when some here give you a hard time.”

A couple of Homuras looked away.

“But above all, there’s always someone to listen.”

Sharp Homura nodded and sniffed. The pixel game obsessed Homura placed a tissue box on the counter and Sharp Homura mopped up her tears.

There were Homuras that patted her back and said, “I’m sorry,” and Tamura was never more grateful for Bar Homura’s gentle words.


	94. Enchant

For as long as Homura had known there was magic around her. There were whispers of Witches and how to defeat them, and how when she grew older she could fight them as well, with the sneaky, slight of quick hand and sharpened cards and enchanted saws and robotic bunnies and doves.

She’d been sorted into a team and given her own outfit to fight against the Witches, bedazzled with sequins on the edges and beads all around. Her weapon was very rare, and the time shield was decorated with tassels.

At first her power was used to enchant the Witches into a lull, while everyone else readied their weapons to the weaknesses of the Witches.

Now, it was used to pull the others out of the darkness of magic.


	95. Ballad

Homura was awaiting the performance, as Madoka set up the additional video recordings of instruments, and she finally got them in place before setting her violin in place. Homura leaned forward in her seat.

“This is titled One-Four-Three,” Madoka said, before she began her ballad.

The piano from the recording started first, playing gently and slowly growing into more keys. The violin joined in briefly, before playing in short bursts, and then a long, sweet whine.

Madoka began playing her violin quickly, as the piano dropped in briefly, and the violin slowed.

The violin started again, as vocalization joined the music, and the violin began playing in earnest, with the soft plucking of a ukulele in tandem.

The warm sound of a cello brought the music to a slow start, before it was replaced once again by Madoka’s violin.

The piano began again, the violin bringing out its closure, before Madoka worked it out to its conclusion. The last sound of the music was Madoka’s violin, the sound like a shuddering sob born out of comfort.

She stood silently and bowed, and blushed under Homura’s cheers and claps, before she rushed with a hug and, “I’m so proud of you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The 143 riddle is  
> 1 word for I  
> 4 words for love  
> 3 words for you


	96. Sage (Miitopia)

Homura wasn’t really sure when she became a Great Sage. She’d been an ordinary mage once, but somewhere along the line she became very powerful. It contrasted with her youth and sometimes made things difficult. Just because she was powerful didn’t mean that she knew everything.

But she did know that Dark Lord Yanda was causing chaos across the land. So she set out to find the savior that would set things right.

She hadn’t found that savior yet but when she was in the eastern part of Greenhorne she found a familiar band of adventurers, ones that she first met early in this journey. They were all a little older than her but not necessarily more powerful; and they had run out of HP bananas and HP sprinkles besides, so she was guiding them to an inn.

“So, Pearl, you don’t like food very much?” Daisy asked. “What do you do with MP candy and HP bananas then?”

Pearl shuddered. “Get it over with.”

“Ha, I see,” Daisy replied. “But you should try letting MP candy melt on your tongue! It’s good, it’s like lemon candy!”

“No, thank you.”

Amid Daisy’s cajoling to get Pearl to try a new way to eat MP candy, Homura heard the other adventurer clear her throat. Homura briefly wondered if Rinko was feeling under the weather.

“Yes?”

“Um, Great Sage Homura,” Rinko said, “I have a question.”

“Go on.”

“There’s a dear friend that lost his face,” Rinko explained, “And we haven’t found it yet. When the Dark Lord is defeated, will his face return?”

“Yes.”

Rinko breathed a sigh of relief at the answer.

“That’s good, we’ve been trying for… well, for a long time to find his face, and…”

She shook her head.

“You’ve probably heard that a lot,” Rinko said. “So, I want to know more about you, Great Sage Homura.”

Homura went over the possible list of topics; her mind turned to thoughts of home.

“In my village there’re blue roses blooming around this time,” Homura said. “They’re used to make tea.”

“Wait, don’t tell me what it tastes like,” Rinko said, “I’d like to try it for myself.”

“All right. What about your village?”

“There’s a lot of spice-based fauna. It’s part of why I wanted to choose the chef profession.”

Rinko mimed making food with her frying pan. “Our specialty is spicy curry, but nobody except Takeo seems to like it.”

“It’s probably because of the magic in that pan,” Homura said.

“Magic to go with this pan that cost two hundred gold?” Rinko asked with a laugh. “I got a bargain, then.”

Rinko shook the pan once more as she thought up another question. Something melancholy passed her face.

 “Great Sage Homura,” Rinko said, “What will you do when this is all over?”

Homura looked up at the sky. It wasn’t very different from the one in her hometown. She thought of people with no faces, silent and melancholy; of a Dark Lord that operated on malice and anger and hatred.

She thought of a hometown where she didn’t have a title. She was just known as Homura. She thought of everyone coming out to bid her good-bye, and how her girlfriend, Madoka, didn’t let go for the longest time.

She thought that if she so wished she could go home and Madoka would be waiting there for her.

She thought of the people that didn’t have that privilege.

“I will go home,” Homura said. “There is nothing better than home.”

Rinko smiled sadly. “I want to do that, too.”

Homura gestured to the other two adventurers – Pearl had turned the conversation over how they kept their weapons clean and shiny – and asked, “You are all searching for at least one person’s face, correct?”

“Yes,” Rinko said. “I think Takeo and I got lucky.”

She lowered her head. “We are only missing a friend. Our other team mates, they’re missing family members, friends… we have two little ones on our team. We found them both wandering, and both of their parents’ faces are missing and anybody else that could take care of them, too…”

She shook her head. “What Dark Lord Yanda is doing is inexcusable.”

Homura nodded. It was silent for the two of them the rest of the trek to the inn. But Homura thought that perhaps a savior wasn’t needed; the Dark Lord could be defeated by a band of people working together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The backstory for this and another prompt is that when I was on my trip I had no Wi-Fi so I spent a lot of time on my daily train rides playing Miitopia. It inspired me for these prompts, as well because it's a fun and indulgent game.


	97. Rain

In her travels, afterwards, Homura found a place where there was an expanse of water, one that stretched out as far as the eye could see. She walked through the water but nothing made the water cloudy with sand or pebbles; only ripples disturbed the water, going outward and outward until nothingness.

The sky above was a dark blue, dotted with silver stars, and the line between sky and water was a blur. Homura kept her eye on the horizon, focusing on a made-up constellation to find a way through the water. It was only her, the sky and water.

There were twin ripples in a moment’s time and Homura thought it was the rain, but when she looked she saw the hem of a white dress but it vanished before she could see the person the dress rested upon.


	98. Curse (Miitopia)

Even far up into the village there had been whispers, fearful and especially hushed when she entered the room but she easily rooted the secrets out and placed them in their proper place.

There was a fight, somewhere off in the east in a castle surrounded by lava, and the Great Sage was captured by an evil spirit. Some in the villager fussed and wondered if it was the one from long, long ago, a story that Madoka knew well.

It was the sort that was stored away in old picture books and cold, misty nights. She knew the anguish and the rage contained within the tale; one couldn’t cling to this world when they discarded their face. 

There was always that question at the end: “What ought we do with this Dark Curse?”

It was a question reserved for the hero in the prophecy to bring this spirit down, but it was asked all the same for the children. Madoka had always been the first to speak, and would always declare that this curse should be saved. Now, her resolve wavered for the briefest moment when she thought of what it was doing to this land.

And she’d brought it up, when the pieces were all together; that she should go after this newly named Darker Lord, and break Homura free.

It was met with chuckles and, “I’m sure there’s already a band of adventurers to help her,” and nobody would listen to this dark, cold feeling in her chest.

She was a mage, not as strong as Homura by any means, but it was enough for the monsters out there.

And so in the dead of night, Madoka packed up her supplies and ventured out into the world.

-

It had been a few days out here on her own, and there wasn’t much trouble because of the inns that popped up when the road was too weary. Madoka didn’t know there were so many of them.

There was a song brimming up in her, and Madoka sorted out the lyrics as she walked.

“Patting my head like nothing’s wrong,” she tried, and there was a little resentment in her voice, “Going on like clockwork, gong-gong-gong…”

The air was humid and she ran a hand across her forehead. The foliage was huge, and Madoka had to sidestep to avoid the giant droplet that fell from a giant blade of grass.

She came face-to-face with a Fiend; its eyes bore into her and she yelped, drawing out her wand.

“No, no, no!” she quickly drew up a barrier before her. The Fiend drew its wicked scythe into a circular motion and sliced through the barrier.

Madoka stepped back and fell off the road, rolling so quickly that she was rendered silent, and she landed in a heap at the bottom.

“What was that?!” someone called, and Madoka couldn’t answer. She opened her eyes and saw the sky, before it was obscured by another girl.

“Are you okay?” she asked; Madoka focused on the girl’s apron and nodded, dazed. A hand reached out and Madoka pulled herself up.

“We thought you were some sort of new monster!” another voice called.

“Hold on, wait,” the girl said. She nodded to Madoka. “What’s your name?”

“Madoka.”

“My name is Rinko,” the girl said. “And these are my teammates.”

She pointed at them in succession, “Luigi,” a chef that was being supported, “Daisy,” the thief supporting him, and, “Pearl,” a knight that looked at Madoka worriedly.

“What happened to you?” Pearl asked.

“A… A Fiend…”

“Nasty things, aren’t they?” Daisy asked. She turned her head to Luigi. “That’s what got him.”

“And we’re all out of HP bananas and our sprinkles, too,” Rinko explained. “But there’s an inn not too far from here. You should go with us.”

“I…” Madoka looked around and saw that her supplies were smashed beyond use. The only thing that was still safe was a single blue rose. It was a gift for Homura.

When Madoka went to get the rose before leaving for the inn she thought that there was a flicker of recognition in Rinko’s eyes.

-

When they got to the inn there was a boy standing by the doorway; he was taller than anyone Madoka had ever seen before.

“I’ll go get him something to eat,” Daisy instructed as the boy took Luigi from her.

“Simmer,” Luigi said faintly.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t forget, sweetie,” Daisy said. There was a fondness in her voice that made Madoka’s heart constrict.

Madoka was taken to the dining area, where the air was saturated with the smell of something peppery and delicious.

She settled down at one of the chairs, with Pearl and Rinko opposite her, which made her feel, suddenly, very awkward.

“Are you hungry?” Rinko asked first. Madoka shook her head.

Pearl’s fingers were entwined, in front of her face. Madoka felt like she was getting the full-on evaluation.

“You look young to be out there by yourself.”

“It’s only been a few days,” Madoka said lamely.

“Did your parents lose their faces?” Rinko asked sympathetically. “Takeo and I, we lost a dear friend’s face, but we started out together.”

“No, it’s…”

Just then Daisy stepped into the dining room – “Sorry, just a second!” – and ducked into the kitchen before headed out with a modest tray of food and drink.

Madoka hoped the levity would make them forget the issue at hand but of course it would never be that easy.

“Is there no one else out there helping you?” Rinko asked.

“I… I was alone.”

“Like you saw, it’s very dangerous out there,” Pearl said. “You got very lucky when you encountered that Fiend, and if you go out on your own again your luck may run out quickly.”

“It might be best if you go home,” Rinko said; she made it sound like it was an option Madoka didn’t have to take.

“I can’t go home,” Madoka said, taking the plunge for the unsaid other option.

There must’ve been something in her voice, because the two of them looked off-guard.

“The curse… the spirit, it captured my girlfriend. Homura, and everyone kept saying that it was going to be okay, that I should leave it to some other people, but it just wasn’t right. I couldn’t just wait around for other people to help her. I need to help her.”

She rubbed at her cheeks, the grief and anger finally having an outlet.

“Well,” Pearl said, “We were on our way to help Great Sage Homura. It will be a good sight for Great Sage Homura to see her girlfriend first when she is free from that spirit.”

Rinko smiled and nodded, and Madoka breathed out, a great weight lifting from her heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the inspirations for this prompt was that during my trip I'd just come back to my host family after a two-day activity in the mountains. As I was getting ready to go to bed I pictured Madoka off on her own with only a bag of supplies but she was determined, so it eventually became this prompt.


	99. Home

A lot of things had changed at Akemi-ya since Madoka showed up there unexpectedly.

For one, it had become a lot homelier. In her ascension to something neither human nor magical girl, she had the power to bring all sorts of magical girls here, and the other versions of her.

For a long time there was work to build apartments for these newcomers, and there was a big celebration when it was all done.

Everyone got their own rooms, decorated to what they pleased. Tamura got hers with furniture of all colors, but her favorite piece was the vase of plastic roses. The apartment above her was Techno Homura’s and luckily the girl kept the techno business elsewhere. Tamura would visit to hear Techno Homura and Violin Madoka play together.

The phone obsessed Homura was able to keep her eyes off her phone for a good amount of time; the professor was able to find the app for her, and it was fine either way; she had her online friends in previous timelines to finally talk to in person.

The RPG enthusiast Homura had a new group of people that shared her interest; sometimes Tamura would have to visit by her apartment to tell everyone to go to bed already.

Sharp Homura lost most of her edge and decided to find a hobby, which turned out to be animation. She, the manga illustrator Homura and Poetry Homura worked together for practice.

One day when everyone was full and cheerful celebrating a holiday, the zombie killer Homura confided in Tamura that she was so glad of the new life ahead of her in the singular timeline. The Witch’s kiss was replaced by plain Wraiths, and after everything that was something she could easily handle. She still kept her hair short, but as a sign of new beginnings.

In Madoka’s newfound power, she learned of the untouched timeline and was able to document it; there was to be a show about this story. It was created with the help of the more artistic Homuras and magical girls.

On the day it premiered there were many talents alongside the project.

The magician Homura stood with Plushy Homura as her assistant. The goat plush was found in the old fashioned Homura’s hands and she waved as she went up to the stage to return it and receive her prize, a box of tangerines.

Techno Homura opened alongside Violin Madoka, Techno Kyoko, Piano Sayaka and Clarinet Mami. Some of the Homuras in the audience shook glowsticks as they cheered and Tamura wondered where they came from.

The comedian Mami began after, with a classic skit of hers, before she was accompanied by the prankster Homura. For once the audience laughed at her pranks.

The star of the show began after that; it was an animated movie that detailed what happened to that untouched timeline.

The audience cheered at the Great Sage Homura’s power as she saved adventurers. There were screams as the Dark Lord Yanda’s cruelty gripped the land and the spirit within the innocent Yanda took over Great Sage Homura.

The tea brewer Homura started to cry when Madoka set off to find Great Sage Homura.

The audience sang in tune with the Fab Fairy Sisters’ dance, and Tamura was the only one to scream at the dragon. Her heart finally calmed down when it was revealed the dragon was an ally.

In the final battle, everyone except for Madoka was down. The Darkest Lord Homura loomed over ominously and Madoka drew upon her own power.

The cheering was overwhelming when Great Sage Homura was restored, and even more so when Madoka decided to save this spirit. The credits rolled alongside the land turning back to normal and the heroes’ triumphant return.

The lights were back on, but the cheering didn’t diminish.

Afterward there was a dinner made by Bar Homura and her helpers, and Tamura was in a deep conversation with her Madoka, before they both joined in the conversation with the other girls at their table about the show.

Tamura thought of home and thought of this place, warm and joyful, and was content.


	100. Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this.
> 
> Even though the picture is melancholy I think it can give an underlining of hope. The inspiration for this is rooted in Sleeping at Last's tribute song for the enneagram type two, whose weaknesses are putting others' needs in front of their own and neglecting their own inner hurt. I've heard rumors that the working title for the next movie was "Atonement," and coupled with the fact that Rebellion Story was originally supposed to have a happy ending, I think that the canon Homura can care for her inner hurt and be happy with the others.


End file.
